Wolf RPG

She wouldn't stop trying.

That had been her promise to herself. No matter what anybody else said or thought. She would continue to keep search for him. As long as it took to find an answer.

He did not even need to come back. If she could just. . . know.

Know what became of him. Know what he wanted. Know where he went.

Then perhaps her nights wouldn't be so filled with stirring restlessness and concern. Perhaps she could regain a shred or normalcy. Perhaps she could...do anything other than think.

It was almost pitiful how he had come into her life and now consumed so much of her brain, within such a short window.

Any thoughts anyone else had on her feverish search, would have been ignored anyway. This was a personal matter at this point. Close to her heart.

It's why she dared the mountains when she could. Paws sore from the recent trekking of stone, having known the life of wooded areas and fields for so long now. Still, still she had to move onward. Not to the top of the mountain but enough to have some sight over things.

As if she could pick him out in a crowded land.

She couldn't. Not like this. She could call out for him. Something she had attempted in the coastal forest only to be met with other familiar faces.

This time she was almost certain nobody would appear.

Her head tilted back and lowly she called out for @Kigipigak — a call full of concern and worry.

Two more times she would repeat the call. As if it might change the outcome. Then find somewhere to wait in the overcast sun.

Soon she would return back home.

The sound was distant, but unmistakable. Against his better judgement Kigipigak would struggle to his feet and pivot in the ulaq; his alert eyes and ears hoping to hold on to that sound in the air.

Then, it faded.

He would sit there staring at the distant trees and graying sky. Whether @Kukutux was there administering medicine, or @Iḷitqusiq with a story, the agitation and focus of Kigipigak would be hard to ignore.

A second call — a third!

So distant, but they were real, they were her.

Breathing quickly, Kigipigak canted back his own head and tried to call out to her — to send some form of message back — and while the sound gathered within the ulaq there was no way for him to tell if Sakhmet could hear it.

It hurt to take that breath, hurt again to expel it.

From that point on Kigipigak would sleep in the mouth of the ulaq, his body wedged at the cusp of the opening. His head snaking outside of it, listening intently to every little sound upon the mountain.

Hoping to hear her again.