Sunset Valley But he talks like a gentleman

early afternoon, overcast, 54 F

He took his assignment seriously. He had spent many days out in the valley and in the surrounding areas, keeping an eye out for any of the caribou herd that looked sick. If he could take them down on his own, he would try, but others still had enough vigor left in them that he needed help. Luckily there were plenty of other wolves around with the same goal in mind.

Today, he was perched on a low cliff, looking down at the herd. He had been watching a large female for some time. She was clearly sick, but he hadn't yet figured out exactly how sick. Could he deal with her on his own? He supposed there was only one way to find out.

He quietly dropped down to the ground and waited. She had drifted near here a few times, and he knew she would again. 

Some time had passed before she was close enough, and Tuulu wouldn't give her any more advantage than she already had. He leaped forward and latched onto her shoulder. The cow violently screamed and reared up. She was stronger than she looked, apparently. The northerner probably needed help, but he was too stubborn to back off now, especially as she sent him flying back across the frozen grass. An abrasion burned on his forearm, stretching from wrist to elbow, but it wouldn't hinder him; he pushed past the pain and took off after the sick reindeer, teeth snapping at kicking heels as he drew closer.

Kigipigak followed the same part of the herd. He was within the lowlands, not upon a ridge the way the other perched, but he knew of them. He had seen them take their place there an hour ago; it would be good to have help in culling the sickness that swept through the caribou, he thought.

His mind was elsewhere soon enough.

The most obvious target was a sick cow, and she ambled away from the bulk of the collective towards the ridge that by now was far from Kigipigak. It took time for him to find his way back and when he got there, the wolf who had been watching was no longer high up; he did not see where they prowled.

When the stranger lunged for the cow Kigipigak was also surprised. The creature fought back in a disoriented manner while Kigipigak watched, entertained by the sight of wolf versus caribou, and thrilled that someone else had the spine with which to confront something so large while alone.

The pair separated and soon enough the wolf was chasing the caribou again. Kigipigak moved with them, following at a distance until he'd closed enough of the gap, and then appeared on the far side of the caribou while the stranger launched another attack.

While they snapped on one side, Kigipigak drove forward and snapped at the other, which confused the cow immensely. Perhaps together this could be done — and even if they failed, Kigipigak was having the time of his life.

Help came soon enough from a stranger who smelled like the other wolves that had been hanging around and picking off the sick caribou. Tuulu was grateful. It had become quickly apparent that he might not be able to take down the neurologic cow on his own. She was not yet weak enough from the disease but she was ataxic and disoriented enough to make things tricky.

She stumbled to the side to try and avoid the other man's attack, which only pushed her into the northerner's waiting jaws. Again, he jumped up and dug his teeth in. This time he aimed his bite at the place where the reindeer's shoulder met her neck. The skin was weaker there and below there would be major vessels. He could tell he nicked one of those vessels because warm blood gushed from the wound, painting his cheeks and her chest before mixing with the frost on the grass. The cow reared up again, weaker than before. But this made her stumble more wildly than she had initially. She flung Tuulu around, but he managed to let go and tumble on the ground. He was back up in flash, though, ready to jump in and help is partner finish the job.

The caribou was pretty far gone. That or this stranger was a formidable hunter. Perhaps even both — each time the man struck at the cow, the creature swayed uneasily or tried to retaliate, and weakened each time. Kigipigak's worrying at one side of it helped keep it off-balance, driving it towards the stranger, who was ready.

Blood-scent plumed in the air.

Kigipigak saw the man go down as he was lunging forward himself, snapping at the creature's legs, vying for a grip of the belly, anything that might harass. Eager to extinguish the will to fight back. It was as if Kigipigak was once again among his brothers of Tartok; this was a thrill he had sorely been missing.

The man returned to the bleeding, weakened cow as Kigipigak's energy began to wane. He rounded towards the hocks of the beast and moved to hinder the cow there, grabbing a flailing limb as it reached out in a kick, and snapped it. The caribou bleat weakly as it fell towards Kigipigak.

Now it was his turn to push the cow towards the other hunter. The scent of blood sparked another surge of adrenaline, and Tuulu pushed forward to nip and the sensitive flesh of the beast's underarm, and again at the flank just behind that.

The caribou kicked out at the other wolf, and his partner took that opportunity to grab her leg and break it. The exhilarating sound of bone snapping filled the air between them, and Tuulu let out a short, excited howl. The cow teetered and then began to fall toward the other man. The northerner knew this was their chance to take it down. He only hoped the stranger had enough sense to move out of the way and not get trapped under the large beast.

In an attempt to kill two birds with one stone, he sped around the front of the deer and jumped up to grab hold of her neck. He tried to push against her weight while also sinking tired jaws into flesh to clamp around the wind pipe. Hopefully he had at least given the other wolf time to dodge the falling mass before she hit the ground and took Tuulu with her. He was wrapped awkwardly around her neck, but he didn't let go, and he wouldn't until she stopped struggling.

There was a moment during the creature's fall that Kigipigak doubted himself. He saw the immense shape teetering too close and did not yet move himself, not until the shadow crossed him, and when he shifted and lunged away, he thought that he had misjudged the speed with which the creature collapsed back. He managed to snake around one side and be safe in the end, his pulse racing, and laughter bubbling from his chest.

The other wolf was nowhere to be seen at first; but as Kigipigak caught site of their darkened spine, he saw that they held the caribou's neck between jaws. It was rare that two hunters could take down such an immense thing; this man was a fine hunter indeed! It helped too that the caribou was so far gone with sickness.

Kigipigak gathered his breath and paced around the head of the cow, watching as its life was choked out of it. Watching as the blood pooled down its hide from many tears and abrasions. After a final struggle he saw the stranger release his grip.

A good hunt! Kigipigak praised with his excessive voice.

He released the caribou when it was clear she no longer lived, standing up and shaking out his thick coat. The stranger approached and praised the hunt. Tuulu couldn't help the rare smirk that tugged one corner of his lip. Yeah, you saved my ass, he added.

I am Tuuluuwaq, brother to Issorartuyak. I just arrived at the glacier not too long ago. It was an honor to hunt with you. It was one of the few ways to bring him from behind his carefully constructed walls, at least temporarily. He looked over their kill. What have you been doing with the sick once they're dead? he asked after a moment. It wasn't like they could eat them, and he wondered if it would be wise to just leave them lying around.

Ah! The man spoke and said his name, longer even than Kigipigak's! But he understood. He did not know this Issorartuyak and presumed he was one of the northmen of the glacier; but still, they were in some way, kinfolk. The way that Kukutux and Kigipigak were also.

We strip the body of the meat. We are not so close to the glacier here, so I think this meat will go to my village camp in the valley. He looked from the caribou to the man with a light expression, making sure it was alright to be so presumptuous.

I am Kigipigak, a hunter of Moonglow village. Our camps are in the valley and in places out-of-the-way, so that we do not overstep.

They stripped the body of meat. So it is safe to eat them? Tuulu inquired. He had just assumed that they weren't meant for consumption since they were sick. As for the meat going to the other man's camp, he had no issue with it. Yes, go ahead. 

He introduced himself as Kigipigak—another northerner. Tuulu was instantly more at ease. And it seemed he was with the wolves Lane had told him about. Have your wolves been able to cull a good amount of the sick caribou? he asked. Now he was curious; there was obviously more to learn about the situation.

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Some of them. They are strong despite the sickness. He answered.

It had only occurred to Kigipigak that the meat might be tainted because of Nyra, who had spoken to him about her own concerns. He had not thought the illness sweeping the smaller prey might be the same as what affected the caribou.

Regardless of how they had gotten sick or any of that, Kigipigak still believed it was their duty to cull the weak. That the meat might disturb the wolves wasn't really a concern to him.

I let my kinfolk Kukutux decide what to do with the meat after, he said as he tore in to the belly of the now prone beast. As warm entrails emptied to the snow, Kigipigak moved quickly.

She is my village leader. It would be good to meet her, I think. You are from the north - ah, he moved back hastily to avoid whatever came from the torn stomach and stood panting while the bile emptied against the earth. It smelled foul and incredibly vegetal, but lacked any bulk, which indicated as well that the caribou had not eaten.

So they didn't know for sure that the meat was safe, then. That made the northerner uneasy, and he thought he might refrain from eating any of it until he had a for sure answer. He had studied the herds at great length, it had been his only way to pass the time while he waited for his brother's return. Their illness was strange; it made the Tatkret uneasy. He needed to know more. But it would have to wait for another day, it seemed. 

Kigipigak spoke of his village leader named Kukutux; he suggested that Tuulu meat her as they were all cut from the same cloth. The dismantling of the beasts gut had no effect on him; he had seen it many times before. The smell of the bile was putrid as always, but he was used that as well. He watched the steam drift up to the sky before looking down to examine the contents of the Cow's stomach. I would like to meet her, he said in return. He wondered how many from north resided here. 

A closer inspection of the liquid had his eyebrows drawing together. Hmm, they don't eat, he commented.

There is much food for them here... But I did not see any graze-lines, and the snow has not been kicked away anywhere. Kigipigak mused aloud. He was not an ecologist by any measure, but in tracking the herds one took notice of these things. Behaviors which seemed small now appeared absent entirely, which made him wonder.

It will mean they are desperate. Their sickness might make them lose interest in food. That would make them weak and easy to hunt.

He moved in again to work at cleaning the flesh from the body, pulling at parts of it, choosing not to be delicate. This caribou was meant for meat alone.

Another clue about the sickness. Tuulu was intrigued; he looked forward to investigating further into this illness. He was also grateful to have someone here who had already been dealing with the herd. 

That sounds likely, he added. But I wonder what causes the disorientation. I'm hesitant to believe that it is just from hunger. He had seen things waste away; older creatures did not seem to suffer any neurological symptoms when starved. And the caribou's behavior seemed more too strange for that. He could tell there was more to the story. He would need to pick Lane's mind and his brother's too. He would certainly be studying more of the herd and attempting to take out anymore sick creatures he came upon. 

As they talked, he moved beside the other northerner and began to help him clean out the carcass.

With the two of them working at the body, they made short work of the rest of the belly and each took a leg to pick apart. Disarticulation was a messy affair but it needed to be done if the meat was to be preserved. Kigipigak worked on the front-end and the nearest limb, while the other man moved opposite.

Kigipigak did not speak much as he worked, now. He was concentrated upon cutting with his teeth, leveraging his weight across the limb as he pulled it at a different angle, and otherwise occupied. When he had broken enough of the tendon that the leg hung loose across the chest he felt satsified, and then began to pull. It came away with a pop.

Since there wasn't much room for talking now that both of their mouths were busy tearing through flesh and muscle, Tuulu let the conversation fall. 

He moved to the rear of the cow and began to work on the back leg that was attached to the side facing the ground. He tore and pulled until he arrived at the same outcome, pulling the leg off with a hard backwards thrust that involved his entire body. He moved next to the flank of the same size, going in from the abdomen and working his way down, There would be decent meat there as well, especially since the animal hadn't had time yet to waste away. Thankfully, his partner had already cleared out a lot of the organs that would have been in the way, making it much easier to find what he was looking for. He sank teeth in and pulled that meat as well, placing pieces of it next to the leg he had already disconnected.

An hour passed, maybe two. It was hard work even for the men; perhaps because they had worked so hard to bring down the caribou, their energy had been spent. By the time Kigipigak had torn both the legs from the carcass and emptied the belly, the other man had managed the same with the hind.

He stepped back and sank to his haunches, covered in blood that was in various stages of dry-to-wet, coagulated mostly around his throat and face.

Here, he offered — and pushed aside some of the meat pile to reveal the heart and liver, as well as some of the cleaned belly meat. We need to eat if we are to carry all of this. It will take many paths before it is all squared away.

Maybe Kigipigak could get the help of Sialuk or one of the other Moonglow wolves at the camp, he thought. They must have finished many of the ulax by now.

Tuulu looked at the meat when it was offered. There was no way he could ingest that; his stomach churned in literal protest. He didn't know enough about the sickness, and until he did, he couldn't look at the caribou as food, not any of the ill ones anyway. But the other man was right: it would be best to eat before the work they had cut out for them lugging all of this back to Kigipigak's camp. 

The northerner would rather take his chances. A memory of the cow stumbling and ataxic, the lack of food in her stomach—he refused to end up like that. A hard swallow moved down his throat. He shook his head as politely as he could. I'll be fine, he assured the other wolf. Just lead the way, and I'll help you carry this back to your camp. He hoped there would be no questions about his decision, but he would answer them truthfully if there were.

These pieces he offered were more than food: they were a gift to a new friend and valued hunter, a comrade. However when the other wolf refused the precious soft meats, Kigipigak held in his reaction. He was partly surprised and partly offended; he gave the man a moment to recant his decision and when that did not happen, he knew he had to eat them himself lest they be wasted.

With a shrug Kigipigak tore in to the heart and within minutes the toughened muscle was being chewed in his back molars. He picked apart the liver and filled his belly with it as best he could before the metallic taste of organ meat became too overbearing.

After dragging his face across his forelimbs in a weak effort to clean his chin of fluids, he settled near one pile of parts while Tuuluuwaq was given access to the others; together the pair would journey with meat in tow, over and over, until everything was squared away.

He spoke very little as they worked — digesting the situation as well as the belly full of potentially dangerous meat.

Fading here!