Raven's Watch so you take what you want and leave

Her anger simmers as she leaves the taiga behind and enters the mountains. The terrain is hard and familiar underfoot, grounding in a way the frost-covered caribou grounds are not. Their war may be raging by now; Issitoq likely dead from blood or infection or from teeth of their own kind.

It matters little to her now.

Tikigâk heads north and Nagruk finds remnants of Kukuvrak's trail leading east over the north slopes of the range. Ice crystals have begun to form in the prints, an indication that they have sat here untouched for days. She presses on. Others cross his trail, one set larger and heavier, one shallower though Nagruk notes the hasty imprint of claws. This one was on the run. 

It must have been a tactic by One Eye to separate her kin on the brink of conflict. She snorts as a roaring river comes into view and lumbers to the edge, ears pricked for any sign of the raven man but knowing he was likely long gone by now.

having tracked the target far was a show of his tenacity, but it was her escape that proved him wrong. to blame the lack of support was one thing; but he did not blame black hawk, in the end. it had been a fool's errand; his frustration exerted itself in the punchy strike of his gait, the prickling of hackles.

if he ever came across that scent again he would not relent; he was owed blood, and kukuvrak did not want Sos to go thirsty for too much longer.

the hunter doubled-back reluctantly. it was during this transit of the mountainside that he came upon nagruk's scent. the river drowns the sound of his approach, but he mirrors her position from the other side; twin ravens perched.