the swooping, screaming birds called an expanse of boulder-studded snow-drifts their home.

cen panted as he cut a swathe in front of @Red Leaf. the whitefall was piled to his shoulders in places, and the keening of the wind was sharp upon them both, freed from the tightness of gathered trees.

caribou dotted the long fields. but cen was exhausted, and as the wind began to blow the snow sideways into frostwound eddies, he pushed red leaf into a high drift and covered her with his body, pulling their sleeping-skins across the natural opening of such a depression.

in the dim light, his teeth glistened in a grin as the wind howled. "hear it. sister wind is our friend. from now until forever."

wind sister keened. beneath the hide, cen kissed the protesting mouth of his pretty wife. "have i already tired you, red leaf?" the caribou hunter teased, alluding to his near ceaseless enjoyment of her.

for a moment, cen was tempted by the female warmth of her body and the lovely sheen of her red eyes, but moved away slightly, lying in the drift now beside her. "the wind will blow sharp pieces of ice into your eyes and your teeth. it is better to wait for the storm to pass, and this is how we wait."

their heaviest hide over them, the pooling heat between their bodies warming the small space rapidly.

one day there would be children between them, nestled beneath hide and between the pelts of their mother and father.

in time, the wind stopped its howling. tentatively cen pulled back a corner of the skin, seeing how it had become stiff in the freezing cold. the land was bright-white and flat here, save for the multiple rock formations and piles which studded the land like blunted teeth.

pulling from their shelter, cen stretched and yawned widely, shaking out his hackles. the caribou herd was curiously nearby, tens upon tens of them, scraping through the snow here for the grass beneath. the wolf wanted one, and knew he could have one, even without a band of hunters.

"come, wife," he ordered in a lighter voice. "leave everything here. these hides are old. i will find you a new one." he did not wait; cen only watched red leaf for a moment and then began to stalk after the great herd.

he did not need to run, nor rush, nor bluff. among their number were elders who had returned to the taiga for their death. the caribou hunters needed only to find the downed antlers amid the eternal churn of clicking hooves.

their way of hunting was simple: look for the caribou lying down, strike fast, strike hard. they were usually elders or the very ill, culling themselves as the herd went down through their natal ranges. no one would stop for them nor defend them, and their own protection of self had often been weakened by their inability to eat.

cen peered through the milling legs now, grunting, "there" to red leaf as he lifted a paw to point. the mass of grass-eating bodies parted, and a bull with a broken antler and a greying beard could be seen, resting quietly in the snow.

with a daring glance toward red leaf, cen let out a shout and ran directly at that part of the herd, kicking snow and snapping teeth on the cold empty air.

his posturing worked; the caribou lowed and bleated and stampeded off deeper into the rest, and to its fringes.

cen stalked toward the old one, breath spiraling in the air. the animal's eyes rolled frantically. he struck, and blood stained the white now. "now you, wife," the caribou hunter ordered, stepping back as the herdbeast tried to rise.

red leaf's cuts were clumsy, her retreat too swift. cen scoffed and stalked past the trembling form of his young wife; he slashed only a few more times, and caught the great throat, and held it.

when the last kicking had ended, cen wiped his mouth and looked toward red leaf. he was not angry, which surprised even the man. but he was annoyed. he must teach her, this woman he had brought over the glacier from her valley.

"among lanzadoii, the men and the women butcher together. each hunter earns a part to share in the task. it is divided equally, and that way your shares are also equal."

he had circled back to the dead caribou, and now touched its face with a paw. "thank you, grandfather. your life gives us life." but in the next, his voice latched again upon red leaf;

"but that is the way of lanzadoii. and i know the ways of your people. i have seen them, lived them. so, my wife," and now he pushed her firmly toward the carcass, "if you want to be a sharadoii woman, and butcher what i have killed, then do so."

it would be long hands of time before red leaf could creep wearily to bed, the meat butchered and frozen in a hide, so that it would be easier to carry; the new skin, stretched, scraped, and ready for further curing tomorrow; the teeth and declaws and antlers piled aside, to add to her weight; the skull plucked clean; the offal taken from their camp and buried elsewhere, what of it she could not cure or eat, so that other animals would be staved off.

yes. sharadoii indeed.

cen gorged himself on dried meat, rolled himself into their hides, and went to sleep.