His journey continued.

With his skybound companion overhead, Aningan travelled farther from the direction he’d originally come. That home was so far away now hardly bothered him—how could it when he had no true ties there, those that were meant to be his family having never offered him much of anything, especially not their time—and whatever feelings of dread  did nag at him would fade without scarring. He could not think long on the glacier, nor when he might return, for a plan would ruin his adventure; he had no intentions of returning any time soon, of course, but even that he wouldn’t say aloud for fear of taking away from the mystery of his trek.

The farther they went, the more barren the earth became. There came to be an expanse of land on which he saw no trees, and thus stole a glance upwards at his friend. Did that bother her? Whether it did or not, she did not show it, using the land to her advantage instead as she hunted. Eventually, the owl went beyond his line of sight—not that Aningan noticed. Whilst she’d been hunting so skillfully, the child had taken to trying to pick out from the snow a meal for himself. This consisted of him hopping, pouncing, flailing, and falling—sometimes in that order, other times mixed around. At times, the way he jumped resembled a fox without grace, as he threw snow all around each and every time. It turned into a game eventually, with him flinging snow in every direction possible—and then it happened.

It was a game no longer.

As he came up again, there was a mouse trapped in his jaws, small and lifeless. Thrilled by his success, however tiny it was, Aningan completely missed the approaching woman.

It took one—maybe two—seconds for him to down the mouse, its body hardly a snack (but damn ’phas is kEK). The mouse was just enough to awaken the hunger he hadn’t realised he’d developed, causing his stomach to let out a loud rumble. Determined to silence it, and now knowing that he was capable, Aningan pushed his nose towards the snow as he sought out another rodent—but, instead, he got a nose full of a snow and an eyeful of stranger.

Immediately, his head shot up and tilted to the side as he stared the woman down, finding her appearance curious and her being there strange. Was she hunting the mice, too? He couldn’t help but glance skyward, searching for his friend, but there was nothing there.

Okay, so he had to handle this alone. Cool, cool, he could do that.

Without an ounce of hesitance—he didn’t understand the concept of stranger danger, he’d never been taught—Aningan bounded towards the other wolf, a mix of English and Inuttut greetings flying from his mouth in a jumbled mess of sheer excitement.

Although he’d received little attention from his family, he was still well aware of play and how to do it, thanks to his siblings. When the female bowed he slid to a stop, tail waving proudly like a flag over his rump—she wanted to play with him? Having grown incredibly accustomed to being ignored by those older than himself, this came as quite the surprise.

Without so much as a second thought, Aningan dropped his front half down and barked. Hardly a second was allowed to pass before he sprung up and raced towards her, tongue flapping in the wind.

As the game of chicken began, he slowed but did not stop; he resembled a young, goofy puppy most of all in that moment, as he bounded towards her with his tongue flapping in the wind. He was all for colliding, figuring that getting a little mouthy was acceptable with a complete stranger—only, she went by him. Not only that but, before he could spin, he felt a pinch on his tail. And although it did not hurt, it startled him just enough that he let out a little yipe and tucked in his rear; it wasn’t long before he was right back at it, though, spinning and taking off towards her once again.

This time, Aningan intended to further engage her. He tried his very best to close what distance was between them so that he could mouth at her wrist like some weirdo (aka Minion the lil black lab x kEK).

Well, that was unexpected.

The sudden impact set his teeth to rattling, his head forced back whilst he blinked several times. In his stunned state, his mind refused to register her spring over him, which left him confused once he finally recollected himself—where had she gone? He glanced towards either side of him but did not notice her until he finally spun; at that point, he was tired and, honestly, still trying to decide whether or not their collision had knocked something loose inside him.

“You’re good at playing,” he noted between pants, though he didn’t exactly have much experience to compare their game to. He’d never had the chance to play with his older family members, and engagements with his siblings had oftentimes been brief. It was refreshing to have discovered how best his energy could be used. “Do you play a lot?” he asked; no matter her answer, he’d already decided that she definitely did—how else would she have become a play expert?!

Although she didn’t play as often as he believed, he admired her stamina; perhaps, had things been different early in his life, he would also be able to maintain himself. Alas, that simply was not the case—but perhaps it could be.

He cocked his head at her question—then tossed it to the opposite side—considering the proposal. Other children with whom he could play versus the home he’d left behind that was void of any such thing. Why, it was a no-brainer. “Can I?” he asked, wanting to be certain. “I’d like that. No one at the glacier ever wants to play.” Not with him, anyways. But maybe that was how it had to be—how it was supposed to be, when a mother wants nothing to do with her son.