Wolf RPG

He'd spent weeks with the boulder wolves and when the storm eased, he told Mahler of his intention to travel; but he would be back, or so he had said. The urge to investigate the Watch and any survivors of the storm did strike Kigipigak.

He moved through the valley and hunted in the Emberwood so that he would not have to struggle up through the mountains. The Sunspire afforded him solace for one night; then in the days that followed Kigipigak prowled the lake beyond it.

Mahler's offer had made a nest in his mind and populated it with various thoughts and plans, none that Kigipigak found suitable. Without a claim of his own he had no right to take a wife; that was the way of his people, regardless of what was made law by his new issumatar. Still Kigipigak entertained curiosities of his own. When he slept in the belly of the Heartwood his dreams were of more than running tuktu.

It was here that he heard the first stirrings of a call upon the wind. The familiar voice of Kukutux, somehow ringing through the emptiness of winter. He wasted no time and called back to her; the song he sang held a note of surprise above all else. From there he moved on, to the west where the mountains welcomed him.

When he set his eyes upon her Kigipigak's travel weariness sloughed from him like a discarded robe. He smiled, genuinely, and closed the distance with an eagerness he did not often show to others.

Her scent warmed him. She was his last connection to the northlands, and she held the scent of snow and ice — or rather lacked the mountain's earthiness — in a way that greatly appealed to him. Kigipigak circled her in greeting; he was too close and too greedy, but withdrew readily enough.

I am glad to see you as well, he remarks, though he need not bother. The elation he feels electrifies his skin. His tail makes wide friendly sweeps. I am surprised that you call for me, atauraga.

with rivenwood settling into the bypass as their conquered territory, praimfaya had set off for moonspear on mahler’s behest to inquire after his daughters. praimfaya agreed, because she is still trying to prove to mahler that she was worth the second chance and because visiting moonspear might mean she could see opalia again.

she makes cuts through moonstone quarry, realizing a beat too late, that her path is directing her towards where the sound of two voices carry within the quarry’s walls. she pauses, steps ceasing as she peers left and right for an alternate path, not wanting to disturb them; but praimfaya is unfamiliar with this territory except for the most clear path splicing thru it and is not interested in getting lost in the caves or being stuck down in the cradle of the quarry.

she approaches with caution then, only to realize that she knew at least one of the wolves. kigipigak; a recent addition to rivenwood whom at the very least seems familiar with the woman. i was just passing thru, praimfaya says, unsure why she feels nervous, suddenly. she turns frostbound gaze to the woman who smells of moonspear. on my way to moonspear. she adds though no one asked.

Kigipigak was distracted by Kukutux. When another body emerged on an intercepting trajectory he paused and then turned, puffing up a bit with a defensive air.

The stranger that drew up to meet them was rugged and masculine at first glance; he recognized the scarred face, and then the name that was shared, before finally the scent of Mahler met his senses. Whatever posturing Kigipigak had assumed then melted from him, the iceberg-esque rigidity sloughing from his shoulders.

He had not befriended many within the Rivenwood yet, but he did recall having encountered this woman; she had been present when Mahler's forces had taken the bypass as well. An impressive and well-marked warrior.

Priamfaya, Kigipigak half introduced, half greeted, with a warm intonation.

He glanced to Kukutux. My brothers of the ravenhome have left. The wind called to them before the snows came, so I was without a home. I found one with Priamfaya's people in an eastern wood.

Kigipigak's smile was thin and did not enter his eyes; he still wished to hold the Watch and wait for Stjornuati's return, yet it had been months. He was thankful that Mahler had given him the opportunity to outlast the winter. The weight of Kigipigak's decision weighed upon him - even if it was winter's will that had forced the decision.

the woman introduces herself as kukutux, of moonspear and wife to its leader jarilo; and for some unfathomed reason it brings with it some sort of relief. relief, praimfaya thinks, that is borne out of the fact that she hadn't stumbled across some sort of sordid, clandestine meeting. her frostbound gaze moves from kukutux to kigipigak when he introduces her; preening just a bit when he calls rivenwood 'her people' ...though she is uncertain whether it is pride or for his benefit. it was true, she'd be lying if she considered that he wasn't what she considered a prime candidate for siring her pups, though the mateship hiccup was proving an obstacle that the commander was having trouble overcoming.

after a moment, her gaze moves back to kukutux, offering an amiable smile.

i am on a mission from our leader, mahler. he has family in moonspear: nyx and two daughters, ciri and elke. i was on my way to inquire about how they fare. he would make the trip himself but has some injuries he is tending to. for now, she leaves news of their victory over the legion wolves for their bypass out of the equation.

Kigipigak looked from the pale woman to Priamfaya as he listened. He was glad to have the approval of his northern-born companion, but it had taken that moment for Kigipigak to really look at Priamfaya and see her as something more than a passing body, a figure that had held little interest to him while he pined for the normalcy of the Watch. Mahler had given Kigipigak the approval to do whatever he wished within Rivenwood - and how strange that fate would set the two of them on this path, to encounter one-another here.

The two women discussed things Kigipigak did not know much about; he presumed Mahler was a father many times over at his age, and he cared little about the progeny the old codger had scattered around the wilds. It would not have been the first time a man hid his families; the world of Tartok was not so dissimilar.

While they spoke with one-another Kigipigak felt like the odd man out and yet he remained silent, thinking about his options, appraising Praimfaya in a new light. She was a true warrior, and held the favor of Mahler the same as he did, which made her a strong match if Kigipigak truly wished to go down the path of fatherhood.

the news that the woman gives, at least in regards to nyx and ciri is ...not good. it was very open ended and left too many holes to say for sure what happened. praimfaya feels a pang in her heart for mahler and the heavy burden of the news she must return to him with. i see, she responds graciously, giving a tip of her head in thanks. she is grateful for the information shared with her ...even if it was less than ideal and surely not what mahler wishes to hear.

i cannot say if he will or not, praimfaya admits; not willing to speak on what mahler would and wouldn't do. if he was to call elke home ...well, she couldn't blame him. he might ...and he may not. what the moonsperian woman decided to do with that vague information was up to her. 

after a moment, praimfaya drawls in a breath. i should take this news to mahler. she speaks of her exit. it was nice to meet you kukutux, she offers the woman with a soft smile and then turns her frostbound gaze to kigipigak. see you later. with those words, she departs; retracing her steps back, letting the two to their conversation before she'd interrupted.

Sad news, but at least it was something. Kigipigak did not think of how Mahler would receive it; he watched Praimfaya move on from them and his gaze lingered upon the carved path in the snow. Kukutux' warning earned a distracted nod and when the woman spoke of the dispersed warrior, he finally perked up and turned his attention back to his present company.

Have you dreamed again? Kukutux wondered, her bright eyes focused upon him. Kigipigak shook his head, Not that I know. I have been busy adjusting to the customs of new people, and even before I could learn from them, we moved to raid another tribe and take their land. A small smile quirks across his face at this mention. They are not so different from my tribe of icewalkers.

Kigipigak wondered what his mother would think; she would be proud, he liked to reason, knowing that he carried the traditions of their people in to the south. He is distracted again; this time Kigipigak speaks from the heart and slyly mentions, I may have found a place to take root after all.

Yes, you are right! Kigipigak had not thought of it that way; so fixated on how different Mahler was from Stjornuati, or the people of the wood from his ravenhome. It still hurt to think of the opportunity he had at the Watch, and the abandonment he felt. With time that would heal.

Perhaps in the spring.

My new issumatar is an older man. He says he is done with children, and has given me permission to start a family if I choose. He told Kukutux of this to gauge her reaction. He wondered if she would find it as strange as himself. Doing so would displace him. That is the way of things. Yet he says he does not mind, and I find that... different. He huffs, then shrugs.

If I were home in my village I would have found a woman by now, I think. He muses, laughing lightly at the change in his circumstances.

It surprised Kigipigak to hear the woman speak of these things, as she sounded wise beyond her years. The bears she loved so much had lent her patience, and with it she had made herself a tactician of the heart; or so Kigipigak thought, mixing together all that he knew of Kukutux in the moment.

Perhaps Mahler had meant to bait him. The knowledge that he was getting on in years and had no woman to himself was, indeed, giving Kigipigak many thoughts. He had on more than one occasion entertained seditious concepts that he had yet to act on, and now wondered if Kukutux was trying to help him see the value of it, or the opposite.

She shrugged. He smiled dimly, deciding to push those thoughts aside for later. Kigipigak had slain one old man already and he did not see himself as a true king-slayer, unsure if that was the legacy he wanted for himself.

I do not know what is best for me, he answers with another chuckle. Life in my village centered around my mother so wholly that I never really knew myself. I did everything I could to earn her favor. The laughter died in his chest as he said this, as if the realization had just struck him. It had been brewing for a while and it took this conversation for some points to strike home. There were none suitable to be my aokatti — or if there were, I was oblivious to them. None I could see as partners in any other way, either.

Perhaps in banishing him from the village as she did, Sedna had sent him on a better path after all. In culling his father Kigipigak found his name as well as his freedom from the bindings of the matriarch. I think that is why I am still so resistant to the idea. I am young, I have yet to see the world or to conquer anything. I have done nothing to earn... a family.

He had not meant to become so introspective; it was easy with Kukutux here, acting as his sounding board, his replacement mother. Someone to tell all his worries to regardless of propriety. He is unashamed of what falls from his mouth while she is around; trusting her innately.

kukutux thought of the secrets in the woman's circle. such talk was forbidden even kigipigak, who she had come to adore in her heart. but the revolution of village around mother was not unknown to her, nor an unkind thought. without mother to give babies in barter for man's protection, a pack, a village, a territory would be nothing.

the silent message of kukutux' submission was that she meant to do it. that she had been taught to control the attitude of the hunters around her through their traditional deference. that was why always, in the end, mother made the final choice, though father would often believe it had been his choice.

she meant to teach sialuk the same. the duck hoped for girls this year, suddenly. saviguk she loved with her soul entire, but her love could not teach him the equally sacred way to be a hunter. "if the spirits put before you a new land, a new home, and perhaps a wife, kiggavik, then the spirits have chosen you for such things. we do not question that. they feel as though you have earned their blessing. take what they have given you."

he had realized, kukutux felt, that the untethering of man from mother was important and began with his first strike into the world. she watched kigipigak delicately, enjoying how open he had become with her; it brought more free things to her tongue, words she spoke to his ears.

Kigipigak did not live in a world of spirits. His was a physical world that he built, that he controlled through the exacting of his will. Or at least that's what his mother had raised him to be — a beast of pragmatism. Kigipigak found more comfort in Kukutux' explanation than he would admit, despite all of that.

He wanted to be chosen. He had been the one his mother called upon for the culling. He had been given leave to form his own branch of Tartok, chosen to lead when he'd found a suitable partner. Kukutux touched upon something powerful within him and did not know it. If these so-called spirits have chosen him too, then he would have to comply.

Kigipigak is silent as he listens to the woman, but he cannot contain himself for long. You don't think I am rushing in to something? If I do take a wife... If I become a father as these spirits want of me, that would surely displace the man that took me in. How is that right?

By the laws of Tartok it would be justified. That should have been enough.

That was one way to handle it, Kigipigak thought. If he took a wife and filled the bypass with his children, he would not necessarily have to displace Mahler. It felt wrong to entertain the thought of it; but again, it was the way his people operated.

Was he ready to follow those traditions or would he follow his own? It did not make him feel right either way. The man had opened his home to Kigipigak. Then again, so had Stjornuati, once.

The conversation slowed, quieted. Kigipigak was filled with many thoughts and many more questions, yet he chose not to voice them. They would keep him awake through the night when he would rather be sleeping.

You are right. He is old, he would know already the things that fill my mind. I do not doubt he would think of them before me, and yet he offers me this life. Kigipigak sighs, finding a new weight to everything now that Kukutux has made sense of it for him.

I will go back. I thank you for your counsel. May your spirits be kind to you, he murmurs, knowing that Kukutux is tied in some way to this realm he does not truly understand. Kigipigak hopes to see her again one day — and maybe then, he'll have more to tell her.

"go in peace, my kin," kukutux murmured softly, stepping forward to nudge his shoulder with a light press of her crown before she retook her place before him. "you walk a path that lays itself out slowly before you. i trust that you will know how to step."

the duck would wait for any response given; if he turned now she would watch him go with a semblance of longing beginning to turn in her chest. selfishly she wished that kigipigak would become head and bring his village closer, but that was only for the spirits to decide now.