The wind was her guide, bolstering every swift stride, for without it there would be no energy within her to go on. Her route was just as fickle; dancing east, then diving to the south, searching for familiarity. All she found was dust and the brine-smell of the ocean. The sight of it was ominous indeed. This great blue beast that roared endlessly, clawing its way towards the land only to fall back. She saw herself in the tide and grew nervous. Before long the sand transitioned once more to grass, to fields and forests. Aupaluktok thought for a moment that she had drifted in reverse somehow - but no, that couldn't be true. The ocean remained to the north of her, drifting away from her senses as the hours wore on. And just like that, she found herself flying through the edge of a forest.

In her time away from the realm of Man, Aupaluktok's body had begun to change. Where there once had been muscle and the cusion of fat along her extremeties, there was now nothing. Her body had cannibalized itself outright: and her ninety pounds had dwindled. She was gaunt where there used to be smooth curves, no sheen to her copper pelt, and a red tone to the whites of her eyes; these whites which became starkly apparent when a creature came barreling out of the forest at her. Its movement was feral and practiced, no doubt accustomed to the wilderness around it. Aupa was jarred from her stride by his abrupt appearance, and while he came to a firm halt, she recoiled. She knew what he was - amarok, wolf. Wilding of the Land Without Men. Despite being so far removed from such a primitive creature, she found her body reacting to his presence: the short fur of her body beginning to lift and puff, although such a reaction did little to increase her size. She said nothing because she didn't know what to say - meeting his rumbling disapproval with wide-eyed silence. Her tail wagged awkwardly as if the motion would invite friendliness, and naturally lifted in to a high position - the way she normally carried herself around other dogs. This was no dog, but Aupa had no precedent for such an encounter.

The feral beast came at her swiftly, eager to impart the wolf law to which she was ignorant. Aupa discovered an instant dislike to the maneuver, but she was ill-equipped to avoid it; his grip was set upon the side of her neck and, with great force, her ruddy self was pushed towards the dirt. A low squeal of surprise erupted from her upon contact. While it was similar to the rough and rogueish manner with which her running mates had tussled, there was a very immediate threat behind the action that could not go unnoticed.

Aupa's body formed a crescent shape around the rugged head of her attacker as she fell, and felt an abrupt shudder of pain as her insubstantial body smacked the earth. Her tail was low then, as was everything else; curling to shelter her belly even as the beast forced its exposure. This law - of fang, of fortitude - had been taught to her in a different manner. That the lead dog would rise and take the helm of their sled, that Man would bestow the utmost respect and responsibility unto such a hound. This was different - this was life or death, and the lesson sank in to her alongside the pain.

The bitch let out a low whine, a pleading note of surrender, and hoped it would be enough to abate further distress.

The lesson was learned, and it was not to be forgotten. Sequestered always within her very core.

What are you doing so close to the Bay's borders? the creature's voice intoned further hostility, but the bitch no longer crouched beneath him; she studied his face and saw a staunch resolve, as if he opposed any answer but the truth. It shocked her somewhat that his voice was so clear and clean - hardly what was expected from a creature so untamed. Then again, Aupaluktok had barely considered what a wolf would truly be like. Man had been afraid of them and that had been enough reason for the devoted dog.

Aupa mirrored the beast's behavior as she took full height. It was unnerving to consider this wolf was a full head taller than herself - but it should not have unnerved her so. Other dogs tended to be larger than her diminutive stature simply because of her sex, all of which she found quite agreeable. But this hulking, long-bodied and long-toothed creature was so far removed from her genetic history, all she could see was a potential threat - an enemy which was rightly feared by dog and Man. She swallowed her thoughts and, in a crisp if a little demanding voice, spoke as clearly as her frayed nerves could muster: I don't understand, she admitted, shunting her triangle-ears towards him expectantly, I didn't do anything wrong.

The dogs she had known would fight over meals sometimes, or their place upon the team, but never over... Trees. Land was of no importance to the bitch or to her comrades, although they did tend to become confident with a route once it was learned; the land belonged to Man, its roads built by their will alone and trecked upon by their loyal hounds. Such thoughts were reflected in Aupa's demeanor as it shifted, her chest puffing and head raising as if to assert some sort of unspoken superiority; but she was still dwarfed by the feral creature. I was only wandering.

Though she spoke with such temerity, Aupaluktok felt little strength within herself. There was an obvious shift within the feral beast, as if her presence alone was enough to set him off. He growled ceaselessly, but did not advance upon her; the fortitude with which the stranger enforced these foreign laws was stronger now, more direct. Aupa's worry increased. She took a step in reverse, and then another, hoping that the increase in proximity would lessen the wild thing's anger. If all amarok were like this, then Man had a good reason to be fearful.

And she, with wholehearted resistance to the ways of Man, shaken as she was in the empty hollow where her faith had resided, hoped to be free of this strange creature soon.

He spoke quickly to her - the raucous timbre of his voice catching more of her attention than the words themselves - and Aupaluktok flinched back another step when he boasted a clear threat, Now lower your head, and tuck that tail, or you won't have one to tuck." And she was ready to obey. Experiencing these vital lessons would one day save her life, she knew this, somehow. But more important than the desire to follow and comply was her lust to escape, to flee and survive.

She did not bow, or tuck her tail. The tip of the bushy appendage twitched as if eager to do so, but Aupaluktok would keep her wits about her - refusing the demand by this stranger. There was distance between them now. Distance, as well as the thick fog of fear to fuel her. What are you, anyways? the stranger queried, catching her off-guard for just a moment. What was she? A curious question from the prehistoric beast.

I am nothing. she caught herself muttering in response, the strength which she displayed physically did not translate in to her words. With a distracted look beyond him, the dog's attention slipped to the grass and the distant ocean - and then she took a step towards it, hoping to be quick enough to avoid his teeth.