Neverwinter Forest ukiallik

Kigipigak had not ventured away from the village since his previous return to it, bereft as he was, lost without Sakhmet. In the days to follow he had sullenly gone on with life and gradually thought less and less of her.

As he departed Moonglow this day, in the dark before sunrise, it was to gather information for his own sake. To venture beyond what he knew and see what lay outside the village limits. He hoped to find something worth the effort to bring back with him.

Plunging down the mountain slopes, feeling the rush of adrenaline as he took too sharp a turn one way, or too steep a lunge alongside some trees, Kigipigak let the wilderness swallow him up. When next he is spotted he is trailing through a golden forest.

There were obvious graze lines to the lowest eaves. Some patches of grass were wide and flat, indicative of a larger body having laid there; a herd had likely passed through before Kigipigak. He was glad - it gave him a target to focus on.

kukutux knew this forest only in whispers.

lótë, aiolos, sialuk, and herself; they watched the six pups between their hearths. 

moonglow began to heal. kukutux lay a piece of fur upon her altar and said calming words over its surface, for the troubled spirit of the icehunter.

she meant to seek kigipigak out, but the days had grown long. today she left her pair with their family and followed the hunter's trail out into the world.

kukutux silently came to his side. upon her shoulders she wore a pelt of ash and charcoal. her jadestone eyes lighted upon the swatches of grass and she turned them toward him, curious.

Before long the awareness came to him - he was not alone here after all. Turning his head towards the sound of an approach led to a glimpse of Kukutux. Had she come to find him?

is something the matter? Kigipigak went on to ask, his voice quiet. He did not want to alert any lingering deer to his presence if he could help it. Concern was written plainly across his face. Has first hunter returned?

The man had left quite a mess behind him, but perhaps he had a change of heart, and now Kigipigak was needed to protect the village alongside Shikoba, or Aiolos. He was tired; still, Kigipigak looked back to the rising mountain as if it had wronged the pack.

"no!" the duck said more swiftly, more sharply than she had meant. she clamped her lips, took a breath, shook her head. "i will take flesh from him as i did the tupilak if he returns."

it was a wonder she would spare him at all. he had been so loved by the cloudberry painter. and his face would perhaps one day be reflected in those of his children.

not his children. they were those of her sister. and they belonged also to moonglow. aiolos would be their father.

"i only want to breathe the air before it turns to ice, kiggavik." before it had been grief which drove moonwoman. now it was anger.

Her answer dumbfounded him, as it was a side of her he had never really seen before. Irascible, Kukutux was not. Though now she seemed animated in a new way, and tired like Kigipigak; maybe only hurt, in that profound manner inherent to loss. What had been lost with the departure of the man? He had not been here long - but Kigipigak did not know the history there. He only saw the rage that sparked like sunrise over glacial ice, burning in the green of her eye

He was made quiet. It was not Kigipigak's usual mien but he had changed some, withdrawn within the village. It felt as though he had torn open a barely-healed wound within moonwoman and he was filled with apology.

I... Look forward to the cold. He remarks.

she nudged him to show that she meant no harm by her words. "you said it was the time of men. to celebrate. and to hunt."

shikoba filled her mind. "it is time that moonglow had a new sivullik." they had thrived with one and now they would again. "i think that we will try a new way, and see how the path stands before us."
a pause.

"do you have respect for shikoba, hawk-in-snow?"

Kigipigak let his worry flow from him like meltwater. The name did not mean much to him, and it took a minute for him to remember that this was the warrior woman's name, who he had met in the village and who hunted well.

The one that wears autumn? She impressed me with her size, and is indeed skilled in the hunt. He could see what Kukutux was thinking (or so he believed). It wasn't so strange to Kigipigak that a woman might take the role; his people sought strength above all, which Shikoba had plenty of.

You think of her as sivullik. An observation made with an appreciative nod. She is a warrior.

she nodded. it was in her heart that the spirits would be displeased. firsthunter had always been a man.

but zane was not here. and kigipigak seemed prepared to accept shikoba as hunt leader. this pleased kukutux, relieved her soul of some burden.

"she is. moonglow is stronger to have her with us."

she wondered if he would take the role of her second. she would allow him to decide this and say nothing. "today I will be in your hunting party." moonwoman gestured quietly toward the tracks.

A smile spreads warmly across Kigipigak's face. He cannot remember if he's ever seen Kukutux hunting, nor if they had spent such time together, but he is glad for the company. Even though there are fragments of his spirit missing (and one could tell if they caught him in the right moment), he does not want to give up - he must persevere and prove his worth over again.

I do not know what we may find. Kigipigak admits.

A herd has come through here, but they were quick and their scents have gone stale. There could be something else but the smell of the leaves is so strong now, and the breath of the wind so loud, perhaps all we will hunt for is ghosts.

He had meant it as a joke but there wasn't much humor to his voice; a tired kind of melancholy, not much else.

kigipigak's words wished to be boisterous but he was not. kukutux saw how much he surely had loved sakhmet, and how greatly lost the winterhawk was without her.

"ghost meat!" she accepted the jest and pressed ahead, pretending to hunt for the odd quarry. "i have not prepared that before."

below her smiles, however, was love for her kinsman, and willingness to follow where he might lead today.

On cue with the woman's laughter came the flash of movement at the corner of Kigipigak's eye. He hesitated to chase after it, and it was good, because the shape was a wing and the ravens attached to them called out in equal surprise. One jettisoned itself in to a nearby tree and watched the wolves. The others spun in different directions, with one sluicing the air as it fled.

It was not rare for such birds to find their way to a hunter's camp. Kigipigak did not know if it was a particularly good omen, given that he had a negative frame of mind at the moment, but the ravens held faith in their earthly cousins. As the white wolves prowled, the dark eyes of the flock would watch for an easy meal.

With a frown upon his face Kigipigak continued on. He did not much care for the raven's watching over them, and sought about finding a game trail, or something else to get his mind off of his troubles.

kigipigak was troubled. his step was restless.

kukutux breathed a silent thanks for the stare of the ravens and followed him. she pulled gently at the fur of his shoulder, wanting to see her kinsman smile at her tease, if only for a moment.

but the duck did not speak again. her ears lifted; she watched. she listened. kukutux attuned herself to kiggavik.

One raven called; its voice was like rocks falling hard in to water, bursting forth as it flew overhead. It was loudest to the east and whether Kigipigak wanted to accept it or not, he had to trust that the birds were leading the wolves somewhere decent. Their lives intersected in a symbiotic manner; the ravens spotted the prey, the wolves hunted it, both could eat.

Kigipigak wasn't even aware he was following the sound of the bird until some time later, when he spotted its dark shape catching on the branches of a pine tree. It was high, and large still, and made the branch sway. At the base of the tree Kigipigak found a pockmarked trail in the mud made by some kind of deer - a young buck, most likely.

Two wolves might not be enough for this, he thought.

she too sniffed at the track.

the scar high upon her shoulder twinged in the colding air. kukutux lifted her head resolutely. "i am ready to run fast."

it was a respectful way to tell a hunter her plan.

the duck stepped to his side and kept her skin watchful of his own, listening for any gentle shift of hooves in the forest.

Kukutux spoke swiftly to him. Kigipigak nodded, in time with the shuddering of the trees as a brisk wind pulled through them. As she moved along he took to the trail with his head low, shoulders a jutting glacier.

Something moved among the ferns and then stopped; so he did too. Raising his head and peering in to the dark, until a raven called, Ka-kr! Ka-kr!

The slightest movement — a scalloped ear — directed Kigipigak's eye to where something stood waiting where it thought itself hidden and safe. He did not launch forth to chase it immediately, although the instinct was there.

Remembering the feeling of being watched, of being targeted, caused him to freeze.

something was near them.

kukutux mirrored the tension of her kinsman's body. her own ears were alert, jadestone eyes watchful. 

the woman's figure slunk lower to the ground. she began to move in a slow prowl, unwilling truly to approach until kigigipak had made a choice for his own actions.

He was scanning the tree line carefully. Beside him was Kukutux, tense and ready. There were signs that deer had been here once; they had grazed upon the lowest hanging branches of the trees and left them plucked clean.

There. He saw the eyes of the thing; wide and wary, until Kigipigak burst after it, and the deer spun to try and vault itself away. In its panic it failed to gauge its own route of egress.

A lucky break for both wolves.

kigipigak closed from one side.

kukutux closed upon the other.

her teeth were wet with blood. beneath the tangled branches moonwoman was able to steal closer, rear up, cut higher with her teeth. 

silently, the duck asked protection for herself and the winterhawk.

Unable to escape the path of one wolf, then turning and being cut down by another, the deer was not long for this world.

Kukutux scored it first with her bite. Kigipigak came after, reaching for its belly and plucking chunks of flesh from beneath. It bleat a terrified sound before one of them sank teeth in to the throat — it was a blur of white, red, brown.

And then the deer was limp against the earth and both wolves stood panting over it.

she was stained with blood.

her jaws pulled a strip of hide from the downed animal. good fat marbled at its edges. the whole of it steamed against the cold air.

the duck dropped it upon the earth with a whispered prayer of thanks. sedna would drink the blood and taste their success. when the wolf ate, so did the gods.

in the next moment, she had stepped forward and begun to fill her gorge, taking care to tear the pelt as little as she was able. it would make a fine den-skin.

Unlike when he hunted alone, where sometimes Kigipigak would not return any piece of his kill to the village cache but instead devour it, he waited.

He waited while his pulse leveled out and breathing eased. He waited so that Kukutux could have the first bite, as was tradition, as was her right, and enjoyed the sight of her painted in red. She whispered as she worked; he thought he heard some of what she said but he did not strain to involve himself, as it was not his place.

He thought of his mother, oddly.

And then when it was his turn, began to work his way against the flesh and taste the steaming meat, or work at the toughened haunch where he could dig teeth in to bone.