Broken Boulder agnik-miu

Set sometime on the 8th!

Each attempt Kigipigak made to head north was pointless. The snow seemed thickest in the north, the wind pummelling him and forcing him away from the fringe of woodland that might have been shelter on any other occasion. He followed the edge of the forest as best he could as he crossed the taiga; then as he crossed beyond a cluster of errant trees coated thickly in white, he heard the telltale sound of a tree losing structural integrity.

It struck somewhere away from him, there was no way for Kigipigak to tell which direction nor how far; there was only the white-out of snowfall and the occasional grey henge of trees reaching for him through it all. As he clambored beneath some elderwood pines Kigipigak picked up the scent of a gathering of wolves and cursed himself under his breath. The last thing he wanted was to cross in to a stranger's village and draw their ire. 

The scent was layered enough so he could infer how many wolves lived in this area. He did not see the snow-coated boulder which was a few meters off from his sheltering point, in part because the cleave was thick with snow and he was otherwise distracted. Kigipigak tried to peer through the haze of white in case anyone had noticed him—but he saw nothing but snowfall, some blue-grey shadows that might have been trees, and decided he would be safe for a few minutes, at least.

rivenwood had caches, and mahler had dragged their contents beneath the boulder to feed the small pack. the walls of the tunnel upward had become hard-packed, but a steady flow of snowy air permeated the entryway.
but the storm had not abated, and now the gargoyle pressed through the tunnel and into the sideblow of the blizzard. the brackenwood was filled with it, buffeted by the storm; mahler noted that he could only see the smudge of their shadows.
rivenwood must hunt, and soon, but the shadowpriest could see no way it could be done in such a deluge. he stepped from the boulder, trudging heavily through the banked drifts. the nearby scent of a stranger touched his senses, but mahler found himself unprepared for the newcomer to simply materialise from the waxing wall of snow. "seems foolish to be out alone in this," mahler shouted over the wind that clawed the pines, suspicion rising in his gorge.

Kigipigak was not sure if he would be chased away or not; the stranger did not see him immediately and so he felt a sense of calm, although he kept his senses as attuned to the stranger as he could amid the storm. When he was noticed he tensed, rising partway to his feet - ready to move - but the older wolf decided to shout something.

Nowhere else to go! He shouted back. A moment passed during which the air felt as if it flexed, the angle of the snow shifting dramatically one way and then another. Kigipigak's head was bowed against the wind. 

Kigipigak bellowed, Do you have shelter here?

mahler was quiet for a moment while the wind keened, drawing up the same sort of protocols he had done for all the others. in the end, however, rivenwood was in no position to refuse another hunter. "yes," he hummed against the teeth of the storm. "come."
turning, the gargoyle braced his broad shoulders, lowering head below shoulders and pinning his ears back as he began to slowly search for the trail that had brought him out into the elements. they were not far from the boulder; a handful of minutes, for mahler paused several times to assure that the man had not faded into the snow.
he shook out his ruff in the small shelter just below the surface, where the earthen passageway dipped lower into the dens. "this is rivenvood," he said in a small jest, thinking how ironic it was that he could not even pronounce the name of his own land.

Rivenvood? The man has an accent which could have affected how he named his home, but with the blasting winds and Kigipigak's limited experience this far north in the region, he presumes he is hearing thing correctly. The stranger accepts him — for now. It is a blessing. The snow falls thick and constant to the point that Kigipigak likely would not have lasted the night, confidence or not.

Kigipigak followed. There was the boulder, then a corridor of snow leading down in to the earth. He was not pleased at this development and took a moment to gather his bearings; in his world only women put themselves to the earth, not men. But if it meant surviving the storm...

He ducked and followed, wedging his shoulders against the solid walls as the shadow led him deeper. He called to the man, I am Kigipigak.

"i am mahler." the tunnel had spread into the honeycomb of dens, and below the growl of the wind, he could further evaluate the hard muscles beneath the pale coat with a cursory look, the scent of the other unmarred by disease nor brief sickness. yes; he could not afford to let rivenwood go destitute much longer, and nodded toward the other in acceptance.
"from vhere did you come before?" stamping out the snow from the feathering upon his legs, settling his haunches against the stone. mahler was not yet trusting, but wished to gain a bit of respite now that they were not out in the neverending storm. he glanced about, to where he suspected the others might be nestled back into their dens.

The tunnel opened up to a series of burrows that Kigipigak could almost make out in the grey haze; there was a limited amount of light within the cave system but it was enough, and his eyes slowly adjusted. The atrium where the pair stood was quite a bit larger than what Kigipigak would have expected; he was not so fond of being underground or contained in such a way, but with a blizzard forcing the issue, he couldn't complain about the accomodations.

Mahler's question was met with a slowly drawn breath, as the young man debated internally if it was worth mentioning the Watch at all. With the Stormskyli brothers dispersed and the storm preventing travel, did it really matter what he said? 

I met some northmen and had been helping them make a claim of their own, but they dispersed before the snowfall came, as if they knew. This was the first time Kigipigak did not immediately reach for the comfortable option and boast about Unnuakvik. Kigipigak was not bitter; he had chosen to stay behind rather than to go with Stjornuati after all, and could not fault anyone but himself for such a choice.

mahler nodded contemplatively. "some are not made for the vinters here." snowhounds or not, wrought in ice or not, the shadowpriest felt he had weathered all climes for many years in these wilds, and therefore knew their details best. 
the need to rest was beginning to overcome him, though mahler was loathe to believe it was age. exhaustion and hunger had made fools of them all. "tomorrow we go out to hunt," he grunted, moving from the past into the present. "ve vill need to be like northmen to fare in this place." dry humour, the sort he had been raised with. 
"there are two vomen here searching for husbands. make yourself useful to rivenvood and perhaps begin your own line vhen the spring comes." a hefty prize to be sure, a decree that broke one of his own laws, but mahler would not see the boulderpack fail for lack of heirs.

Kigipigak could not help the smirk that dawned upon his iceborne face. The older man sounded a bit exasperated but he thought nothing of it; taking the commentary as idle chatter, but amusing even so.

He resisted the urge to share his own point of view: that the beasts of the southlands were all ill-equipped and if anything, the fact they burrowed like first-time mothers at the sight of some white flakes was disappointing.

What caught Kigipigak off-guard was the other comment — the way that Mahler veered the conversation from one joke to another was almost jarring, and caused the bemused expression to falter on Kigipigak's face. 

A slight frown creased his brow. You offer much to a stranger. Which made Kigipigak wonder after the health of the man after all; perhaps he was too old to perform on his own. You are the issumatar — the, ah, master of this place, yes? You have your own pick of wives. 

The truth of the matter was, Kigipigak had not thought to take a wife for himself. The work he'd put in for Stjornuati — well, for Valmua — hadn't sparked much interest inside of him. Without anyone to stop him now, though, perhaps it would be worth the consideration.

perhaps younger men were leery of an old hunter's offer, but mahler saw no reason to hang so tightly to the threads of rights to children if one had proven themselves. issumatar. he enjoyed the title for its sound, yet put aside aesthetic to answer. "pups are the lifeblood of any pack. it matters little to me who fathers them, so long as he is a husband. and i am confident that those i choose to give the right vill do vell by it."
he wished kigipigak to understand the weight of rivenwood; mahler had grown painfully honest in his anguish as of late.
quiet, awaiting the new pinne to voice more of his inward thoughts.

Kigipigak looses an awkward little chuckle, raising his brows. It is a strange arrangement in his mind but then again, these southerners had different ways from his own, so he could not judge. His people had their own traditions which might have been considered odd. 

In that case, he had some questions. And if I were to claim a wife, fill your village with white-pelted children, would you expect something more of me? Would you not worry that I may overwhelm this place with my own blood and denounce your own? There was an air of mirth to the questions but a serious edge to his eye; he needed to be sure he understood.

Give me a night to sleep on it, perhaps my dream wife will appear to me and we can talk. The young man chuffs, but it turns in to a wide-mouthed yawn.

mahler grinned with an easiness that had not come to him in a long while. perhaps it was the presence of another man; perhaps it was the direct way kigipigak bore himself. "you must catch up to five first. then i vill see what to expect of you. and i am not vorried. a man prolific enough to hold a kingdom should be the vone to rule it."
he saw the yawn; it threatened to provoke his own, and a soft laugh escaped him. "i leave you to sleep then. rest vell," he told the polar man, retreating to the outcropping of stone that had no den, only height that he might see the comings and goings of rivenwood.
and, once sprawled upon this plinth, the leader let himself relax though he did not yet sleep.

The older man was a good sport, snapping back quickly enough. Kigipigak could not tell if he was inflating the number of his conquests or not; either way he was stunned, but did not comment.

He was glad for the dismissal. Kigipigak watched as Mahler headed off at a pantherine prowl, dropping to a watchful position in the middle of the atrium. He could respect the man despite only having met him; he was older, likely held many experiences from which Kigipigak could learn, and he was wise enough not to hole himself away.

Kigipigak headed off to find himself a sleeping arrangement for himself. Like the shadow he would not seek a den, and would be found later with his pale coat tarnished with clay dust. The cave system was surprisingly warm despite the quality of the world outside of it — but Kigipigak still took time to drift off to sleep.

He did not like being confined.