Ankyra Sound vi It's in your blood.

@Njord

The call of the ocean was hard to ignore. A current of pungent air fed in to the tangle of trees where he had been roaming earlier, a fermentation of flavors he had left behind weeks ago. Kigipigak drank in breath after breath as if it were freshly baked bread and he a street urchin; it called to him in such a profound way that he soon found his footing among the twisting groves until the grass turned to rock, and then the rock to dust.

And there, down the iron-rich hillside to an embankment of clay and beyond, sat glittering sweeps of sand. A dark band on the horizon was the seaside. Variegated blue-green and gray, tendrils of foaming white. Closer than all of that was a barrow, of sorts: a vaulted stonescape he eagerly ducked in to.

Kigipigak investigated the exterior in excess before plunging in to the dark, seeking out any sign of other creatures—living or dead—which may have invaded this grotto when the tide was low, like it was now. He could find ripe scents of fish gut and weeds, but nothing remarkable.

The sound of crashing waves was ever present as Njord followed Rusalka's golden matriarch up the coast. He moved with a new pep in his step thanks to a full belly. Meager food from beachcombing could only sustain the man so long, and he was excited to hunt with a mainlander. Erzulie proved swift as they took a kill (his first in Teekon!) and Njord knew, for certain, that winter would be much easier with company.

After recharging their batteries, the leader and her greenhorn headed North towards Dragoncrest Cliffs: Rusalka's new home. The pair didn't talk much on the way, and Njord was fine with that -- he was much too busy taking in the scenery. The coast changed dramatically from the warm and sandy beaches of the south, where he had first swam ashore. Finally, after a few days of hard travel the cliffs came into view. They were close, Erzulie said, and so the pair stopped to rest.

He sole the moment to break away from his companion and explore. Though his paws were sore and travel worn, Njord was far too excited to sit still for very long. He followed a winding path down to the sound, watching the water seep into its wide mouth. A flash of a white caught his eye, disappearing into a sunken cave. Was that the tail of a wolf? Did a pack live in there?

More curious than defensive, the fresh initiate loped across the sand, wanting to know who, or what, these caverns concealed.

Laid within the earth a fair ways from the entrypoint was a pool of still water. Kigipigak tested the surface with a flick of his tongue and found it moderately salty and still palatable, however he knew better than to drink from it. There was a tang of iron there too. Something may have bled in to the pool or there could have been minerals steeping at the bottom—either way, it was not worth the effort.

As he drew away from the pool Kigipigak noted the sound of crunching outside of the grotto. The strides were evenly paced and quick. At first he thought it could be a scavenging kaiyuktuk and aligned himself with one of the walls in the hopes of concealing himself; this was a pointless endeavor, Kigipigak was too large and too luminous with his pale coat (tarnished as it was) to be hidden long.

A grey-capped face entered the cave. It was connected to a set of broad shoulders and a tapering midsection that transitioned to a vibrant red at the tail; Kigipigak still thought it was a scavenger despite the creature's size, thrown a little by preconcieved notions of how they ought to look and the flourish of red in the tail.

The boy bristled and stepped closer.

Scents of the sea overpowered Njord’s nose as he peered inside. The dank cavern was cold and quiet, except for the shrill whistle of ocean wind catching itself in holes of porous rock. “Hellloooo?” he sang out, curiosity waning as the sheer creepiness of this place set in.

Suddenly, a shift of gravel underfoot echoed against the walls. Njord abruptly turned a corner and found himself face to face with a white beast, its eyes illuminated by the reflection of dim light.

“Yikes!” Njord cried out, startled by the ghost. He wheeled back, smacking his melon on the ceiling “Oof,” and fell to the floor, wondering where all these spinning stars came from.

Yikes! Erupted the stranger's voice as they finally noticed Kigipigak. They tried to reverse course and there was an audible konk as their head hit a low segment of the grotto's overhang, falling prone. If Kigipigak had any remorse over causing such a reaction it did not show upon his face.

Kigipigak closed the distance without hurry. He felt a sense of satisfaction upon watching the other boy blunder around and fall to the earth, his tail raising in the dark as a fleeting sense of triumph flowed through him.

Upon inspecting the stranger's coat for smells he found only more salt. Is this your cave, akmaak? It seemed a suitable nickname for the boy painted in shades of stone and fire.

“Uuugghhh,” Njord groaned as he rolled to the side. He reached a sandy paw over his head and felt an egg-sized lump already beginning to swell. “Ow, ow, ow. That smarts,” he muttered with a wince.

Though he was still seeing double, Njord looked up towards the wolf who had spooked him. The statuesque visage of the stranger was obscured by the dim light, though a dark and crooked scar along his face made him seem like he was grinning. “What’s so funny?” Njord murmured as he came to his feet, vision clearing. They were close, now, and the stranger took his scent.

On second look, the cave dweller wasn’t smiling at all. Actually, he looked very matter-of-fact. “Oh, uhhh… no, not my cave.” It sounded like the ghost had an accent. What did he say? Ak-maak? Njord had never heard that word before, nor its dialect. “I was just passing by, headed to Dragoncrest Cliffs… saw you go in.” He shot an angry look at the ceiling. Darn cave. “What are you doing in here, anyways?”

Akmaak denied it being his cave and Kigipigak accepted the answer as swiftly as it arrived. There was no reason to doubt them, he thought. It was hard to tell if the stranger was slender due to their age or due to malnutrition but either way Kigipigak felt no threat from them now. 

The cliffs they spoke of were not familiar to the traveler. He judged that they were somewhere on the coast because of how thick the salt smell was on the boy's coat and would make an effort to find them sometime; provided Stjornuati allowed him such freedoms in the coming days.

I come from a seaside village—Unnuakvik—but it is weeks away. I missed the air and the cold. So in a way Kigipigak was here to explore as well. Baited here by the curious darkness of the cavern.

I am called Kigipigak. He introduced of himself.

Lucky for Njord, he had a pretty thick skull and soon his curiosity overtook his pain. He listened closely to the harsh lilt in Kigipigak‘s intonation, fascinated by the Northerner. The islander had quite an affinity for nordic cultures. Aunt Maera had told him all about Duskfire glacier, and his bloodline… why they ended up settling on an island… well, he just couldn’t understand it!!!

As the stranger explained himself, Njord stepped forward to take scent. The sea still clung to his coat, but the fresh scents of other wolves was much more distinct. If nostalgia brought him to the sound, then where did he actually live? Did Kigipigak also disperse from his homeland?

“Hmm, yeah…” Njord bobbed his head in agreement like a knowing sage stroking a long beard, “I am far from my family home too. It was time to go! But I have found a new pack for the winter… and maybe longer. It’s not smart to be a loner when the nights grow long.” Unlike this companion, he didn’t miss his family very much… yet.

“My name’s Njord… It’s nice to meet you Kigip…kiki….kigipak…piggy...ki…” Njord stumbled over the harsh consonants of the vagrant’s name. He let out a huff. “It’s nice to meet you Kigi,” Njord settled on the nickname with a grin. He shimmied back out the entrance of the grotto and added, “even though you scared the beejezus out of me.” He paused for a moment, hoping the white wolf would step out into the light so he could get a better look. “So where's home for you now?” he asked, wondering what someone else his age was up to... hoping for a little validation that he made the right life decision.

If only he could read the boy's mind and hear of this Maera, this Duskfire Glacier, it may have led to quite the discovery between them; but little was known of Kigipigak's grandfather or his origins. What was known to Kigipigak came passed down through the matriarchs of his tribe, back to the wanderer Saghani, who only rarely spoke of her mate to her then-newborns—the children who would become Kigipigak's aunts, uncles, and most importantly mother Sedna.

No, you are right. Smarter to find a place for the winter. Kigipigak ruminated quietly, turning his ears to gather knowledge as it flowed. Njord was not a name Kigipigak knew of Tartok and that further cemented his opinion on the outsider; however he was still intrigued and eager to linger, to learn.

Kigipigak laughed heartily when the boy stumbled over his name. The sound boomed through the cave and out, following the many curves so that it amplified like a storming gust. It is nice to meet you too, Njord.

Home is everywhere for me. I travel and see things, learn of people not of my tribe—learn of you now—but, ah, there are others. A brother and a sister, they wish to take land for themselves. I will help them. The boy boasted the tale. Your cliffs, they are near? My home will be near too, but south of here. Where the raven's gather.

Njord had thought he was so baller… swimming across the ocean to find a new life for himself… but here was another young man, of similar age, laying the bricks to form a whole NEW kingdom. His own legacy. The islander was, admittedly, a little envious that he hadn’t thought up such a grand plan. We he thinking too small? His brows knitted together pensively, but his eyes were wide with wonder -- not considering, for a minute, that more neighbors might mean bad things for Rusalka. He could not know that the North was so crowded already.

“That’s so cool… you’re settling a whole new pack with them,” Njord replied with earnest respect. He could tell Kigipigak had something he didn’t. A certain sharpness… primitiveness that his brother, Aegir, possessed. Something that made a true man. Njord still felt like a lost boy, sometimes. Yet, he could still be sincere in his happiness for the Northerner. If Kigipigak could make it happen, then so could he!

“Yes, we can see Dragoncrest from here,” he replied, looking over his shoulder to the dangerous silhouette of cliffs against the gunmetal sky in the distance. “We’re called Rusalka. Sounds like we’ll be neighbors,” Njord added, a bit excited. Maybe Allies!  he thought. “This brother and sister… are they from Unnuakvik too? What will your pack be named?” he asked, wondering if more Northmen would settle nearby… he would sure love to pick their brains about their culture.

The boy, Njord, seems young in spirit. He is easily swayed by Kigipigak's tale. For a moment Kigipigak wonders if he can sway him to join with the Watch but then he knows it would be competition for Valmua's attention, so striking the thought down. Njord had a home—this Rusalka he called it—and would serve Kigipigak better as a point of contact than a bond-brother.

To his question Kigipigak answers, No, they are different from me. Also from the north. A different tribe. He did not remember the name of Stormhaven Keep in time to speak it aloud and so he did not. As for the next, I call us tulugak-miu but the others call it The Watch. I do not know more.

What is your Rusalka like?

Like Teekon, the North seemed to harbor many different tribes and cultures. The concept was both strange and exciting to the islander, who had only heard tales from his relatives of such places. Perhaps he would travel there some day and learn about his heritage.

Njord’s ears cupped towards Kigipigak, listening will full attention. He had assumed starting a pack was a linear task: you get a strong leader, make some laws, find some followers; yet it appeared more nebulous from the sound of it. Kigi didn’t extrapolate very far. Was this how it always was? Like many things, Njord had much to learn.

But he couldn’t fault Kigipigak’s lack of depth, for he didn’t know much either! “Haha, same,” he chuckled, “I do now know much about Rusalka yet! I am learning their ways, still. They used to live in the moors by the beach and few days South of here. That’s where I met one leader, Erzulie… I travel with her now to the cliffs. She is a sensible wolf, a good woman. She leads with her mate… another woman!” Njord exclaimed with a smile, punctuating this footnote. He still couldn’t believe it! Not only was the concept of having a woman as a leader new to him, but so was homosexuality. “It is so different from my family’s ways… I like it because of that,” he added.

“They are good people, I am excited to meet the rest of the pack.” He paused, realizing he had been away from Erzulie for too long and that she was probably waiting for him. “It’s time for me to go now, perhaps we will see each other again soon?” he remarked with a question, starting to turn away with a wag of his red tail.

The boy was free with his knowledge, not that he held much. It sounded as if Rusalka was a coastal group much like Unnuakvik, utilizing the sea for sustenance wherever possible. Now that they were migrating to the cliffs things would change for them; he could commisserate to a degree, missing the sea ice as he did.

Kigipigak listened as Njord outlined their structure: a woman leading was not so strange to him, as Tartok tribes were matriarchal for the most part; two women ruling in tandem was an oddity though, and the look on Kigipigak's face showed how shocking it was to him.

They are good people, I am excited to meet the rest of the pack, Njord said; then, extricated himself. It seemed as if his dizziness had subsided. Kigipigak smiled, nodding—It was good to meet you. I will come to visit your cliffs someday, maybe, and meet Erzulie; or perhaps we can hunt together as friends, Njord!

The boy was already on his way out, but Kigipigak's voice carried along after him through the cavern. He felt good, trusting he had been heard. And then in the stillness he found his own way out, resuming his exploration.