The day had found Imaq wandering away from the Glacier for a time, both anxious that her heat had not come as of yet and grateful that it had kept at bay. The cur wasn't sure what she would do when it struck. Wintersbane seemed rather lax regarding breeding but perhaps he was the only male to sire pups and this alone was why -- she had not spoken with Rye for several days and wondered if he had been swept up by the scent of heat coating the Glacier. The only thing the medicine woman was sure of, was that she needed a respite from the perfume of womens'-curse and the feeling of agitated inadequacy it inspired.
She wandered with no particular purpose, mapping the land idly until she decided to scale the lower heights of the Peak. When the dark form of the woman, unwittingly the mother of the girlish ambassador Imaq had spoken with only weeks ago, came into view, the she-dog stopped -- calling a soft, timid note of greeting towards her. Waiting, she wondered if she would be greeted warmly or with anger.
Unaware of the tension her chieftain's name had inspired, the she-dog only smiled brightly in return -- recalling the names she had been given by the youthful shadeling. "Chacal's anânaks," she interjected in a quip of familiarity, tailless, splotched haunches giving a small wag. "Ah, mothers," she added in the common tongue. "Imaq meet Chacal when she comes to the Glacier, jah," she explained, knowing it was unlikely that the yearling had mentioned their brief encounter.
"Ah, no," and again the dove grimaced in apology. "Imaq of Ivory Rose before Wintersbane. Imaq of no one before that."
"Sagtannet," she tested the word on her tongue of tribal flavors, "here before?" The cur asked, remembering what the woman had said a moment before. She could only imagine that the clan who claimed the Peak had been allies or rivals to capture the dark stranger's attention so.
The cur's head tipped back slightly, lips parting in a silent sigh of understanding. "Ah," she mouthed, giving a tiny nod. "Is good thing then, jah? Cliffs all to Sapphique," the Waterwitch quipped lightly with a quirk of a smile, trying her best not to butcher the other clan's name in her thick accent. To the best of her knowledge, it seemed like an alliance might be possible between the gem-wolves and those who belonged to the mountain of ice and sunset -- she didn't see the harm in choosing sides between the victor of this spat and the ghost of a pack that had once claimed the Peak they stood on.
"Aya," Imaq agreed with a light chuckle. "Imaq come all the way from Nunaat -- across Sedna's sea," she added, perhaps a bit too talkative in her excitement at meeting another wolf who seemed to tolerate her presence.
"Glacier is good place to call home. Small pack but strong. Like Kalallit," the dove answered honestly. Her seaglass gaze glimmered then with a hint of girlish secret. "There is a boy. A girl too," she admitted, tones slightly more hushed -- shy. Her thoughts flickered to the spotted wren and the hawk-eyed guardian.
Imaq tipped her head and shoulders in a so-so gesture. The Glacier seemed to be what most wolves would consider a standard pack. They were no militia or warband but their ranks were held by an array of individuals with their own talents -- as Imaq supposed most packs would be, though she was definitely no expert on the coalitions of these foreign lands.
"Imaq spoke with Chacal about..ah, em.." the cur struggled for the right word for a moment. "Alliance," she chirped suddenly as it came to her, eyes bright with the same excitement the prospect had originally given her -- still in the dark about any past friction between Wintersbane and Sapphique's leaders.
Imaq nodded, satisfied and not guessing that anything was amiss. "This is good thing, jah," she praised gently, before offering a hint of herself: "Imaq is medicine woman, like Erzulie. And woman-who-hunts." There was no common term for the title of the arctic wolves.
The shepherd cast a glance over her pale shoulder, thinking that she should return before the time got away from her -- and before the conversation died out awkwardly. "Imaq need go home. But is good to know Erzulie," she demurred with a shy smile as her aquamarines returned to Erzulie's bicolored gaze, hoping the she-wolf understood the sentiment she was trying to express. "Imaq hope to speak with gem-chief again."
She waited to catch any parting words the leader had before giving the shadowed femme a nod and turning to begin the trek back to Duskfire.