Firefly Glen piiyaktuk argiksuk

set around the 8th

This was a place he had not been before. Kigipigak had followed his whims - and the telltale scent of wild game - until he was surrounded by toothy mountain ranges, river scent, and wild grown forest.

The forest was different here; broken by chunks of stone that looked to have crumbled from one of the mountains, with bunches of broken growth now layered with moss, fungus, or discolored from weather.

As he worked his way along an animal path, Kigipigak felt his paw catch on a smooth stone that was wider than his foot. His claws scraped something hard, and when he drew it back, away came some weeds.

Beneath him was a partially obscured skeleton. Flesh had been picked clean of it. Skin had rotted away where it was exposed to air, but the act of stepping on the skull as he did caused a disturbance - enough to bother a swarm of flies enough to rise up and surround him.

She had strayed from the place she had started to settle in. Expected, perhaps, but she swore to return. It was the only thing she had that she could call hers.

Regardless her stomach beckoned her to follow a herd. She could not bring herself to touch the deer that roamed the plateau, unwilling to disturb them more than she must. They would be good for future mouths, future lives. For now she could pick across the lands and eat whatever morsels she found.

Only to be greeted with a new scent on her wander, one that was not of prey. This was one that matched her own kind. Granted the place it came from was unlike her. Large, snowy mountain man. She could not see his scars from here. Only that she was tiny when met with him.

She missed that it was a skeleton he stood above, only that he stood on something that seemed to disturb flying insects.

What is it? She asked cautiously, tail limp between her legs.

The stench that one might expect from such a discovery did not arise. The remains were old. There was a faint dewy, wet dog kind of smell that Kigipigak thought he detected - then nothing. He was busy recoiling from the mass of flies that had been disturbed.

Teetering backwards, he absently stepped on the dead thing's partially exposed ribcage, feeling something fleshy give to the pressure. A plethora of mushrooms had found the moist and dark atmosphere of the cavity to their liking; still, it was enough to turn Kigipigak's stomach.

As he climbed some fallen bits of shattered log, someone else materialized nearby. That was his explanation for the red-coated girl's arrival anyway, as he had missed her initial approach.

I thought it was stones, Kigipigak answered, swallowing back the reflex in his throat. ...I think something bad happened here.

Something he really didn't want to find. Something that this girl ought not to see, he thought, and so he moved to block her path and guide her away if possible. So much for hunting.

She had seen bad reactions before, but she did not know him. She could not read how bad this was. Only that she was being blocked off and soon guided away as he ushered words of something bad happening. To think it was stones and find it was not? She could only imagine the things he might have found instead.

Although it seemed they shared common ground for being here.

Perhaps it is for the best neither of us got the chance... She trailed off, eyes trying to see what he had seen but unable to through his massive form.

Do you think there is a sickness? She asked as she finally turned her gaze upon him. Scarred, but not jarringly so.

Disturbing the herd back home suddenly sounded far more appealing. . .

It helped that she was amenable to his herding, moving away from him with spritely steps. Maybe his bulk intimidated her - she was a small thing, probably quite young too. As she fled beside him Kigipigak focused his attention on the study of her figure, as it was much more appealing than the grotesque remains he had now burned in to his mind.

She was thin; not ungainly, but sharp and lean. The way she moved had a fluidity and yet no grace, like a fawn scrambling to keep up with the herd.

When she turned to try and sneak a glance at the log pile he thought, there is a winter storm inside of you. Her eyes were so pale that she looked almost blind.

It is possible. Kigipigak didn't know for sure. Old meat could spoil and turn your stomach so, something as exposed as those remains might carry worse things.

The girl seemed preoccupied for a moment. Kigipigak wasn't sure what to say to the stranger, and so when he did speak, it was a flurry.

Never know what you'll find here in the south! Once when I visited the sea, I saw giant beastly fish that were bigger than anything! They chased the small fish like we do the herds.

Despite the shock of what he had recently seen and touched, Kigipigak put on a brave face and tried to talk his way back to a good mood. The smile on his face didn't feel genuine - but it did help the nauseated feeling inside.

His flurried words distracted her from what they (he, really, as she had not been as exposed) had stumbled upon. He spoke of a sea and a fish that chased smaller ones. She had never heard of such a thing. Not that she could recall on readily, at least.

There's nothing like that where I stay. She answered, oblivious to the fact his smile was not as genuine as she read it to be. Despite how weak she felt when so close to him, he did not seem inclined to squash her as he likely so could.

I only have a plateau but...there is a herd there. Of deer. No beastly fish. A thin smile of her own. A sort of...reward for the kindness he showed her.

Kigipigak's ears shifted to listen as she spoke, detailing her own home - and the creatures readily available there. If she had a source of food like that, why would she be over here roaming the debris of the glen?

Then again, Kigipigak did not see much potential for someone so insignificant to thrive in a place like that alone. This gave him pause. A plateau populated by deer, protected only by this feeble girl? It sounded like a good place to set up camp.

He let out a little chuckle. It sounds like a good place. Why would you leave it, and to come here? Kigipigak couldn't be a true judge of such a decision; he had left Rivenwood for a small mission and then did not return, and there he had been promised many things.

It was a good question.

One that made all of the answers that lingered on her tongue feel...foolish. Dumb, when confronted with what had occurred here. Yet she had nothing else to stand by except her own choices. So she sucked in a tiny breath to build some false sense of confidence before she breathed a response.

I did not wish to disturb the herd. Honest, meek. Near uncertain of herself. They will be good for the future. I cannot lose them. Possessive over them despite her uncertainty in such a decision now.

I plan to head back, if you say this place is no good.

Ah, so perhaps she came from a village that prized the herd. That or she wished to build one for herself, but the lonely fawn would have a hard time without help.

There are ways to manage herds, rather than take, take, take. Kigipigak said. He wondered if his assumption about her was correct, given she appeared to be alone and lacking the knowledge he carried. Hm. I could teach you... if you are willing.

Not that Kigipigak was a great hunter by any regard, but he was in better condition than this small girl.

My name is Kigipigak. My people, the Tartok, follow the herds of elk in the north. It was an adequate introduction, not too boisterous. He had learned to temper himself a little while on the road.

She had not expected such heavy kindness from a stranger.

He had shielded her from horror already and now he offered to teach her how to maintain. It was a kindness she could not afford to turn down. A soft nod of her head was given as agreement.

Kigipigak he called himself. Immediately she worried how it would sound on her tongue. Likely not as he spoke it, likely disorder and clunky. She wondered how long she could avoid speaking it aloud — or if she might find something else to dub him.

I am Sakhmet. And she could not speak for her people. Dead or lost to her.

Why did you leave your herds in the north?

Curious about the man she was about to introduce to hers.

Sakhmet. It was not so odd a name to him. He wondered what it meant. If her people, whoever and wherever they were, could ever tell him.

There is a sense of uneasy relief within the girl. Even a blockhead like Kigipigak could sense it. The way she seemed to relax, though not entirely, and watch him, and even the manner of her question made him see her differently.

He wanted to be his boastful self. After the horror of his discovery Kigipigak thought better of the truth, choosing not to share his tale of patricide.

I left home. My mother bade me do it, as I had proven myself a man. It wasn't a lie. Kigipigak wondered about the girl in turn, but his mind was soon filled with memories of his village and his mother, which distracted him. It was better to let her offer details when she was comfortable.

She could not imagine her mother ever making her leave home. She imagined, if the world had been right, she would have been by her mother's side this very day.

Alas. The world was not right, not here.

I see. Hushed and careful. She did not wish to insult his culture, to insist that leaving just because you became a man was unnecessary. Which meant she opted for silence. Even if it was awkward or unusual. It was better than being mean to a kind stranger.

Lingered close to his side and slowly set them on the track back to the plateau.

fade?

She was quiet. Accepting of his answer, yet carrying a weight afterwards. Kigipigak wondered if her own fate was similar; however he would not ask, as she appeared more disenchanted after their conversation.

They would roam in near-silence. Better to offer her space, he thought. The wild look about the girl gave Kigipigak reason to wonder privately and watch her, as she led the way through the valley and towards her chosen home.