Duskfire Glacier that if they do not move,

It was a night where her dreams were haunted by things of times past, of her father and the sons she had borne. The golden dove took to wandering the territory beneath the silver glow of Taqqiq's pale face, meandering from her denning site in the Caverns over the webbed, crackling planes of glacial ice -- glowing eerie blues and blacks in the dark like a gemstone composed of seawater, of Sedna's waters to the far north. 

Her aimless footsteps led her up to the fields of ice and drifting snow, blown and caught in the wind to dance across the empty expanse like the twisting, white forms of ghosts in the night. Imaq settled in the snow, waiting on curled haunches of wheaten gold with bated breath -- hoping.

The inua did not leave her waiting long as ribbons of electric green unfurled in a silent dance to match the snow -- twisting and curling through the sky. A gasp escaped the golden merle, rising to her paws though she had seen the dancing lights many times. Reverently, she fell into the traditional steps of her people's faith -- moving in a silent ballet with the lights of the spirits. 

Bicolored ears scoured the dimly lit forest for sound, the nights stillness amplifying the smallest of rodents foot falls two fold. Only an owls drawl shattered the peace as Rye absentmindedly neared its meager meal, the fowls wings spread in attempts to appear bigger and its shrieks rivaled those of hawks. A snarl escaped from his clenched teeth and scrunched nose, his warning further agitating the soured owl. Rye returned only with a snort of dismissal before leaving the creature to its tiny feast and heading further inland to the icefield. Lights danced in the sky, igniting the flame in his heart and piloting the multi-colored male closer to the center of the plain. Its beauty mesmerizing still after multiple viewings, it remained resplendent and Rye was under the impression it would continue to be as such. 

He was grateful to have found Iana, her and Wintersbanes generosity and welcoming attitudes spared him from months of fighting for scraps of nothing. Though happiness was much like the owl he encountered, wanting nothing to do with the male. His mind wondered to Towhee most days, he questioned if she resented him for his failures or if she blamed herself. Rye didn't know if he could face his only friend once more, his lungs squeezed the air from themselves with every attempt to make the journey and thus he would cower back inside the safety of the boarders. The mental weight sunk onto his shoulders, draining what energy he had for long days but Rye was beginning to grow accustomed to sleepless nights. It wasn't all bad, he had the sky lights to entertain him and the occasional company. As he drew to a stop Rye took the time to check his surroundings and to his delight, he spotted a familiar ivory female. Her soft movements lost to his dance-less life, he waited and watched her ballet progress with silent joy before deciding to move in closer. Hopefully catch her attention with a shy, meek, "Hey Imaq."

Tupilak startled, having been absorbed in the slow steps of the undulating dance -- her lips whispering in the silent motions of songs that had gone unsung for years. She could remember the last time she had danced with the spirits but didn't wish to -- knowing it would only bring to mind the misplaced memories of Salik's Kalallit and dancing with the stepmother who had trained her as Angakkoq. It had always been Êrsta's desire that Imaq continue as the family's spiritual leader after the shaman herself grew old. 

But those desires had been waylaid by Salik's pride. Angakkoq could not be a touched woman, not in the way that Imaq had been made into a woman. Their clan's medicine woman was a mouthpiece for the spirits -- she could not be accursed as a girl-woman, could not be an affront to their eyes. 

But here she was not Angakkoq. She was only Imaq, a woman dancing alone in the snow. 

Until Rye that was. The shepherd halted, biting down on a rueful grin as her cracked gaze of seafoam and seawater dropped to the disturbed snow she'd riled. "Ah, hello again," the merle whispered shyly, stumped-rump giving a little happy spasm despite her embarrassment at having been caught. "Are you alright?"

It was rather late. She couldn't help but wonder if something was wrong for the woodland agouti to be up -- even though she was awake and roaming at this hour as well.

The male offered a reassuring smile with hopes of dissipating any embarrassment, he found her movements to beautiful. Although he did not know her true reasons Rye played with the idea of offering to dance with her, his soft movements lacked grace like hers but he could learn, however his belly churned with defiance. The risk of making himself into a fool was too large of a gamble, he would stick with light conversation instead. "Yes I'm quite alright, had a run in with a particularly angry owl though. I growled at it but it really wanted that rat thing it was munching on." His short story paused for a hardy laugh from himself, "Those things are getting bolder by the day, I should've eaten it but I didn't want to risk those thick claws digging into something important." He admitted, his whole chest and head giving one big shrug. Memories of nauseatingly smelling wound came to the forefront of his mind, a single bite from a wolf left him stumbling aimless for weeks. Getting mercilessly clawed would have likely resulted in a similar predicament. Albeit without the barely surviving off caches of past wolves burying their catches, fighting off savage vultures and fevered delusions. Rye couldn't be more grateful Vein found him. Rye wondered where that male landed, if he was okay and if he was safe. Little did the in debt male know, Vein was shacked up with the very same group that gave him the scar on his leg but that was a future problem. "What are you doing out here so late?" He asked, quickly adding, "You like dancing late in the night?" She moved with purpose, to Rye it did not appear to be leisurely but a rehearsed event memorized with importance.   

Imaq's aquamarines widened just a tic in surprise, not expecting the humorous story as his answer, bursting into a fit of unabashed laughter. Once her soft chortles had died and she'd caught her breath, the she-dog leveled him with a wide grin and a bemused shake of her gilded diadem. "Good. Imaq like you too much to lose you to uppik," she jested lightly, a jovial chuckle escaping her to punctuate the joke. 

The confection of buttercream cast a cracked gaze of seawater and seaglass about their snow-blanketed surroundings, a bit sheepishly -- watching the lights dance across the ice just as she had been doing moments ago. "Imaq is Angakkoq. Angakkoq sing with spirits -- the inua. Dance with the lights in the sky -- kaumak."

Imaqs joyful laugh spread to Rye, evoking his own hearty chuckle. As his laugh died down, a broad smile that reached his eyes remained. He was grateful to laugh, his nights were often so dry and lackluster. The change in pace, even if short, was a welcome one. For the moment he was going to make himself stay in the moment, enjoy the present as best he could before inevitably returning to hours of rethinking the past.
"The Inua?" Rye repeated, "What kind of spirit is that? What do they represent?" Was it similar to the mother nature spirit he knew? He was curious to know what beliefs she held.

"Inua are.." the she-dog trailed off for a moment, casting her gaze around as if in search of an explanation. Cracked gaze lighting up suddenly, she glanced back to Rye before gesturing to the star-speckled heavens with a sweep of her pale muzzle. "Sky. Kilak."

"Silatsuak," she demurred, rearing back the tiniest bit to thump both forepaws against the ground. "Imak. Water." She drifted towards him, pointing to his white-patched chest though she stopped shy of touching the Unatattik -- uncertain if it might make him uncomfortable. "Inua are Imaq and Rye."

translations: Unatattik = soldier/warrior

Silatsuak = earth