under the dusky purple sunset, a lone wolf in autumnal shades journeyed through fresh white snow and under barren trees. his head was low when he emerged from the pseudo-cover of leafless trees, sandy hackles mussed and snow-dusted. there were many wolves here — following the herd, no doubt. aniruk intended to avoid both. he would pass through these lands in silence, and leave before his name ever passed the lips of the natives.
nonetheless, the once-warrior felt his pawsteps slow when his gaze caught the blurry silhouettes of caribou in the distance. he lifted his head, dark-tipped ears standing tall as emerald eyes scanned the distance. beyond the herd, he saw wolves. a great sadness swelled in his chest, something like bitter nostalgia. he howled, long and low, calling for nothing and no one; calling simply to be heard.
he turned away, back to a journey with no end.
Kigipigak was doing his best to herd caribou closer to the camp in preparation for Shikoba's first hunt as sivullik, when a low note crooned across the snow. It was not a voice he knew and so he was eager to ignore it; but the caribou were prompted to run early because they heard it also, which gave Kigipigak a few moments reprieve from his watchful duty.
He moved away from the caribou and towards the sound, skirting the patrol paths of other hunters, and slowed when he saw a thin, brackish figure. They looked boyish, and for a moment Kigipigak wondered if this was another Rivenwood child come to gawk rather than work.
he hadn't expected his call to carry far; certainly not far enough to startle the caribou, or bring a hunter down upon him. but it did just that. aniruk sighed to himself, deciding to blame long months alone for his lapse in judgment.
he chuffed to the pale wolf, who was built tall and broad like many of the wolves aniruk had left behind at home. he was not intimidated; he knew the strength hidden in his own middling build, and knew how to wield it. that was why he had been tartok, once. now he had no one and nothing at his back, and perhaps never would again, so he preferred to err on the side of caution. he kept his distance from the other male, and said nothing.
The boy looked indifferent about the caribou. He did not chase it, did not even ready himself to do so, as Kigipigak drew closer. Instead their focus was upon the roaming pale wolf.
Kigipigak turned his ears to the sound of a chuff, and then his eyes, and saw the boy. He looked lean but tall. In good health for the most part. Perhaps a bit older than the children he had met earlier — which gave doubt to his earlier assumption.
Did you come to watch the herds?
He asked of the boy, finally. He watched attentively for a response as that might give Kigipigak more clues of who this boy was, or where he had come from.