Otatso Wetlands Kausittualuk - Printable Version

@Atshen & @Keelut

From the north, she had ventured, but it was neither out of desperation nor necessity that she’d traveled so far away. Gripped tightly by her own curiosity, she’d not thought twice prior to setting out on her person expedition. The tale she’d heard from an elder about a cousin who’d settled in the south had enticed her, the idea that an Apaata could be satisfied living anywhere other than the north being a peculiar thing. Something of great interest must have kept him from returning to his true home, or so was her belief, and so she’d set out with the desire to look across the lands that he’d left his mark upon. For so long she had traveled, too, getting caught in storms of varying degrees and then later finding herself to have been moving in circles afterwards. It’d been a frustrating trek through and through, but never had she turned back, for Chulyin refused to return with her tail between her legs. She would see the land that had claimed a relative, or she would die trying.

When at last she’d entered the Teekon Wilds, she hadn’t the slightest of clues. Everything in the south looked the same to her, especially since she’d never before visited it. For several hours, she’d loped around in search of something of great interest, but had, ultimately, been disappointed. Disappointment turned into frustration when she’d stumbled across the wetlands, the feeling of the soft terrain underfoot rather unsettling. She was no stranger to water, having visited the sea countless times before, but this new land that she’d happened to find was nothing of the sort. Never could she recall having felt the earth squish between her toes in the same manner as it currently did, nor did she wish to remember it. The sensation was vile at best, and so onward the yearling continued, seeking a way out of the mess that she had, quite literally, gotten herself into.

There was true beauty in the far north, layered with quilts of snow in the winter and dotted with resilient flora in the summer. The memories she had there were cherished, as well as longed for as she delved deeper and deeper into the endless abyss that was the wetlands. Her movements had become limited, but she refused to throw in the towel. Ever since the yearling had seen the way in which her people hunted, she’d been drawn to the art and had since then trained as often as time would allow. Ever so rigorously, the gradual buildup of muscle had strengthened her legs considerably, allowing for her to move with less restraint than what could have been the case. Still, even with that extra edge, the pace at which she was forced to walk was far too restrictive. Stressed and irritated, she nearly lashed out at the objects nearest to her, just barely having managed to keep from doing so. To allow for herself to get too agitated would then set her on a path to disaster, as reckless actions often did. With a few breaths meant to relax her having been taken, she continued onward with a lighter mind, though there existed, still, some underlying anxieties.

Masked by the land’s strong odour, the scents of other wolves had just about gone unnoticed. Lucky for her, she’d managed to pluck from the stench the familiar smell of her species. Curious, as well as seeking a shortcut out of the area, she veered off to begin trekking in the boys’ direction and quickly discovered that they hadn’t been too far off from her. It’d taken only a short amount of time prior to the crossing of their paths, an occurrence that brought Chulyin to a stop. For a moment, she only observed them, wondering what had brought them there and if, by chance, they were experiencing the same troubles that she found herself facing. They seemed as if they weren’t doing any better off than she had been, but looks could be deceiving. With that reminder fresh in her mind, she remained alert, the thought of being caught off guard by something most undesirable.

Once comfortable with her overall demeanour, she chuffed, but relied not on the sound alone to acquire their attentions. “Salutitsinik,” voiced the Inuk, her volume just above the conversational norm. “Nunak, sungiusimajân?” She needed for the answer to be a positive one, the thought of staying there in the territory for any longer appalling.