Qeya River anilaaktuk

He came trudging along from the north, not at his usual hungry gait, flanked by the peak of Nova Mountain; there was blood in his vision that Kigipigak refused now to clean off, as he was impatient to be home and he did not like having to delay progress. Alongside him ran @Tulukiri — and others, for a while — until the third or fourth night had fallen, and they were left to sleep in the open fields with a watchful eye.

Tulimaq may come calling for us again. He may want my head for what I have done. Kigipigak told the girl as she scraped the earth and made herself a bed, and while his words sounded ominous there was no worry to be found there. Kigipigak had done what he thought was right. Those that banded with him were now targets, but Tulimaq had been weakened. It would be some time before any fallout occurred.

If he has learned to be honorable in that time, he will come only for me. Otherwise, you will be in danger. Are you certain you wish to follow my path? We are not far from my village.

Tell me about the village, the girl queried, perhaps by way of taking his mind off of harsher things. She did not otherwise answer the question; but Tulukiri had come this far. Kigipigak was likely worrying over nothing.

He spoke at length in to the night: he shared what shape the river took, and its bounty; he spoke of @Sakhmet fondly, and of his boys @Kivaluk and @Akkuma, and tried not to dwell on what he had missed as they had grown. By the time Kigipigak had finished his explanation the girl had fallen deeply asleep; so, he took first watch.

---

By the mid-afternoon the pair had gone as far as the glacier and it was there that Kigipigak found the familiar trails crossing in to Natigvik's territory. He found scents he did not know. His mind was weary and his body sore, so he let his heart lead him instead: following the scent of his wife, so that he boldly moved across the borders he perceived as his own property, and led Tulukiri behind him.

Amalia scented blood on the wind and with increased speed she ran towrds it. A growl already rolling through her chest. Two unfamilair wolves on the territory, had crossed she was to far away.

So it was with intent to harm she hit the nearest from the side a snarl turning her sweet face angry and mean. A golden femme.

She would deal with the other later, the one with gold fur was closer and it was there she set her teeth.

It was a great transgression they had perpetrated against Tulimaq, one which had not fully settled for Tulukiri's spirit; she felt she had wronged the wrong person, but was made to follow Kigipigak because of his choice.

She was young. She had been easily swayed away from the war-effort by her tutor, but to see the fallout - the battle between the men, the rising of the warriors against their leader - it was too much for her.

Yet here she was, following. Making her patrols, feeding them both with what little she could catch in this foreign place. It was not so bad to be on the road again. It felt very much like the early days of the war-effort, while Tulimaq collected warriors from different tribes. In this case they ran away from the danger and splintered apart.

When they made their beds that night, Tulukiri wondered what could have drawn Kigipigak to such a moment. Why had he fought against the orders of his superior? How had she let herself be swayed away from her dream of being a warrior, so easily? But she did not question these things as they settled; instead, her mind was upon their destination: Natigvik.

Tell me about the village, she asked of her tutor, and soon enough the man was speaking. He did love to talk; that was only thing Tulukiri had to acclimatize herself to. Nobody in her home village was as animate as Kigipigak when it came to story-telling, and she came to enjoy his lessons.

This time, as she clung to aspects of his tale - of the village, and his family, and all the bounty of the river - she found it harder and harder to focus, until she was deeply asleep.

---

They crossed the borders without pause. It was hard for Tulukiri to do this, too; she found the same scents, and they were all foreign to her, and so she hung back a wolf-length or three while Kigipigak plunged ahead. He clearly owned this place or at the very least, was comfortable here.

She recalled when Tulimaq had sought him out. The secret meeting in the night - the other recruits further afield by an hour or so, but Tulukiri waiting in the dark for word of the general's return. It felt different, now. It felt almost like she were an invader set to pillage, and the pitch of her blood in her veins only exacerbated that.

A stranger came, then. They moved with finesse across the terrain — flashing teeth, aiming for her. Tulukiri was trained well by many warriors, but she was not fleet-footed enough to be there to stop what came next.

welp, this exploded :') pm me for any changes/edits

A month.

A long, turning month. It had felt like a lifetime. For a moment she wondered and worried. Had she acted upon things too soon?

No, if she had done nothing but sit and wait, Natigvik would not be here.

They would not have hunters. They would not have the support of Moonglow. She would tell herself that everything she had done (good and bad) had been for Natigvik. For what would her husband come home to if she had not acted as she did?

Her heart thudded in her throat, sharp and heavy.

For him to arrive on the cold afternoon breeze felt symbolic.

But behind him was a figure. Feminine and honeyed. Large and strong. Why did something ugly strike at her heart?

Then there was a figure, dark and cutting. Amalia. An uglier sight! She turned her teeth upon the return of Kigipigak and whoever he had brought with? Without a word?

She breathed fire all at once and moved with a swiftness, to knock the scout of Natigvik off her attack.

Kigipigak was intent upon finding his beloved and reuniting with his sons, to the point that he did not think so much about the recruit who ran on his heel — until it was too late. He had not seen signs of anyone until the dark figure of a wolf erupted from the trees, zeroing-in on Tulukiri with the intent to grab and to maim.

He turned his attention immediately to the collision of bodies. He saw the way the black-bodied wolf slammed in to the golden one, trusted that Tulukiri could take the hit, and loosed a snarl the likes of which Natigvik had never heard flow from his chest.

He veered towards the pair of them and attempted to wedge himself in between, grappling with the dark shoulder of one body, holding it, and growling until he realized who it was that defended the village.

Amalia!

He released soon enough but did not shed the intense bearing he had adopted in the heat of the moment. The tone in which he brayed her name was clue enough she had done something wrong. Then, he saw her — gloriously red like the blood he had spilled, sharp-bodied where before she held the weight of motherhood; his wife! The heat of battle subsided but Kigipigak could not pull away from the confrontation between guardian and recruit, not until it was resolved.

His heart thundered throughout.

There was the slam of the black-bodied wolf against her, and teeth, and pain! It was almost too much; but she knew how to handle this. This situation was exactly the point of her training with Kigipigak, and before that with Tulimaq, and all the others. She was only winded for a second and then she roared and pulled, and snapped, and fought! Anything to peel herself away from the bitch that came for her!

In the frenzy Tulukiri failed to notice the arrival of another wolf until it was too late, and she was sandwiched between them, and there was Kigipigak on the other side; so much at once! The girl lost her head for a moment and struck out at the red-touched wolf, and with a snarl of her own pulled free of the lot.

There was a fresh tear to Tulukiri's neck and shoulder, and surely a length of bruised skin all along where Amalia had slammed in to her; but she stared defiantly upon the many wolves and sickled her body around the wounded side, to protect herself, and keep them all within sight as her blood boiled.

What kind of welcome was this?!

At the sharp reproach and the nip Amalia felt her body tighten and then release. And then it was with a sharp yip as something hit her side knocking her further.

She backed up immediately and tucked her tail. The voices too much for her at the moment.

She said nothing, but moved further away. Body smarting, head low. She didn't gaze towards her leaders. Though her heart gladdened at the likes of Kigipigak, though a greeting didn't fall from her maw. As she breathed through her nose her ribs smarting and her shoulder.

so i think i got everyone. Sahkmet hit her and Kigipigak grasped her shoulder correct? Let me know if I need to edit.

Despite her claim as Issumatar, Sakhmet was not a warrior.

Not by any stretch.

But she would be damned to see her husband be welcomed by bloodshed. The golden woman struck her and yet Sakhmet could not blame her! There was a sudden flurry of bodies and panic!

Yet still Amalia peeled away, the golden one guarded herself.

Still she could not greet her husband!

Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, voice nearing a growl. Amalia, saigut. Now. She half expected Sadey to be near there, the medical supplies and caches. To tend to the scout, if she showed with injuries. And truthfully, Sakhmet's patience danced on the thin edge of excitement.

She had never imagined welcoming home Kigipigak like this.

But she looked to him now, with a fierce longing.

The recruit was wounded; blood perfumed the air cleanly. Kigipigak looked towards Tulukiri with the concern of a parent and with a glare and a turn, she petulantly averted her gaze, but that was enough of a moment for Kigipigak to see she was alright. She would need tending-to, as well as Amalia.

His wife spoke, ordering the darkling to go, with the forceful tone of a true issumatar; and whether Amalia dispersed or not, Kigipigak would motion to the golden girl to follow also. They both needed to be tended-to, and it would benefit Tulukiri to learn of Natigvik on her own terms.

When they were alone, Kigipigak turned his full attention - and his bursting heart - to Sakhmet, who he moved towards as if to embrace. There was blood on his coat; spatter from the chaos, a vibrancy anointing him. He was unkept, with grass stains and dried blood upon himself.

And she, perfect. Wild in her way, healthy, livid from the abrupt nature of this reunion; all he wanted to do was sweep in close and hold her, so he did.

She did not like that there were so many bodies here. She did not enjoy the feeling of her fresh wounds either, but at least those could be tended to; the red-furred wolf gave an order and Tulukiri glared at her the entire time, but then turned her eye upon the black-furred bitch and almost grinned. Kigipigak caught her eye and she huffed, averting her gaze from the lot of them.

When next Tulukiri's attention was gathered, she saw what was intended by Kigipigak: that she should depart and follow the darkling warrior to wherever she was going. It felt like an order without being spoken. Tulukiri did not want to linger any longer anyway, so she turned and began to move away — leaving her tutor and his wife to their own devices.

Amalia winced at her leaders tone, but gave a swift nod. And moved towards the medicine den. Sadey would be there. She didn't know if the gold one would follow or not, and she didn't really care at the moment. Too ashamed at her own behavior, though it had been with good intentions however wrong.

But as they say hell is paved with good intentions.

Gone.

Gone and they were alone.

Kigipigak had the paint of a warrior. Blood splattered upon him, fresh and old. Grass tangled in the thickest of his fur. The image of the wild man she had fallen in love with. Been so sheepish before when she had once tried to build her own!

She was held close and she grappled at him in return. The hurts of her heart smoothed by his presence alone. She did not cry, but her eyes teared with the waves of relief at having him back.

You must tell me everything, Sangilak. She whispered his title to him in the crook of his neck.

They were alone, they were together. He wanted only to hold her and then when he was, he wanted more; but she wanted to know, she needed to know everything. It wasn't something he wished to put upon her now and Kigipigak wished he could refuse — but he breathed her in and knew he could refuse her nothing.

He was recruiting children. It was said bluntly; he spoke of Tulimaq of course, but could not say the man's name aloud, not when the very thought of him made Kigipigak's anger rise in such an inexplicable way, and he wanted to be tender with his wife in these moments. Children. A breath.

I was tasked with their training and for a while I did my job. When they were ready, there were plans to move upon a village not unlike our own. A shake of his head as his voice dwindles.

The girl — that is Tulukiri — I taught her most often, and she had the ear of the others. I convinced her not to follow orders. And now she was branded a rebel in the eyes of Tulimaq, and the elder warrior would not take kindly to anyone that refused him his desires.

He lets out a groan, a growl, a sigh, all at once! I am glad to be home! Sakhmet, I missed you, I love you. he burrows his face in to her furs, breathes, tries to forget, and winces around the scars upon his face - raw as they are, he had forgotten about them temporarily.

maybe just a cameo since this is pretty far along! <3

there is commotion. chaos.

kivaluk, checking on the caches as he makes his patrol rounds comes across it too late. late enough to see the whirlwind of aftermath. his mother. amalia. a golden furred stranger in their pack lands! and last —

breath seizes in his throat as his gaze takes in the familiar figure of his father wrapped 'round his mother.

still, guard hairs bristle as he looms like a stony sentinel in the background, not wishing to charge into the settling sea of the altercation that has, so obviously, occured.

Children.

Children trained to move upon a village. The girl who had come with had been a child, trained by Kigipigak of all these things.

Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth.

There were no words for this kind of thing. Her husband bringing home a child that had been fit for war. For a long, silent moment, she wondered what the girl was like. There had been no glimpse of a personality in the chaotic moments.

Buried in the tinted fur of her husband, she could not see their remaining son.

I love you. I cannot let you ever leave again.

She confessed, in a breathless and burned way.

His absence had made a beast of her.

Ignorant as he was to his son's presence, Kigipigak was fully overwhelmed by his wife, and he was glad. He wanted to do so much more than burrow his face in to her — but there was much to discuss, and warnings to give, and meals to share and sleep to be had; he was harrowed by the journey home.

Her order to stay, to never leave again, was met with a soul-deep breath and kisses. I will never. Nothing could make me leave you, I will never. He was repetitive from his exhaustion and lavish with his attention, openly showering her with more affection than ever before.

can maybe be last from me! :D

She knew it to be true.

For she knew she sunk her teeth deeper into his heart upon his return. That his absence had formed her into a selfish creature, who craved her village with a fierceness not yet refined before.

She could not fathom allowing him to ever leave again.

But she laughed, warm and soft, in the waves of his affection. Gently she nudged him as she pulled away, inviting him to come along to their shared place.