Haunted Wood i nuggaagruk

An owl drifted overhead and landed on an extended branch where its eyes caught the moonlight for a moment, folding its wings silently. It turned its head and became a black shape silhouetted by a thin silver ambience. In the quiet one could hear the groan of old trees supported by the new atop the hill, the sound diminishing quickly wherever it sprang from.

A few dozen meters north of a patch of pale jade grass, out of sight from even the keen owl, Kigipigak squatted beside a limp fawn. He was arranging its body to make cleaning it easier on himself in the dark.

It wasn't in great pain. Stuporous from blood loss, its mind had been dulling over the course of the hours while the hunter waited for the death to come. There were preparations to make if Kigipigak was to keep this meal for himself and avoid attracting attention.

Turning now, seeing the way the young thing's head struggled to lift... It was almost time. He did not feel bad for it; this was the way of things and as the wolf it was his duty to cull the weak. This fawn had not been tended to by a caretaker and was easy prey; fortune favored Kigipigak this night.