Moonsong Glacier there's a giant cross on the i40 did you guys know it's huge
Moontide
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It had been not yet a day since he'd parted from Valiant, and already, much had changed. But true to his word, the panther had not gone very far. Only to this mountain, where, from the foothills, he could see the seaside pack that his cousin had chosen. They would meet again in two days' time, and Dutch was eager to tell the other man about the mountain pack. For now, however, his mind was turned toward other things.

@Kilgitsuk.

He liked that name. It was a name that could be sung, and so Dutch sang it when it came time to search for the other male. He did not wish to summon the man from other business, but if the hunter would sing back, Dutch was happy to seek him out where he stood.

“We are all eaters of souls.”


Dan Simmons, 'The Terror'

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Every day brought new challenges to those gathered to Ariadne's hearth. Kilgitsuk was now invested in the protection of the land and on constant watch, or very nearly so, with short sleeping hours between. When he roused now for his shift he was greeted by his name carried on the wind - and by a voice he did not know.

Kilgitsuk climbed from his sleeping place (a random location that changed each time, exposed to the elements) and began hunting. He eventually caught sight of the stranger and called out to them, Hello! You called my name? More like sang it, but he wasn't going to mention that.
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It was not long before another wolf entered his line of sight — a man his own age or older. It made Ariadne's apparent crush just a little more entertaining, but he supposed he could not fault her taste. The man was battle-worn and powerfully built, which boded well for the hunt he hoped to entice his new companion into.

"Haan!" he called back. "I have been told that you are the man to seek for a good hunt."

He only stopped advancing when he was near enough for the other man to smell Ariadne on his pelt — although he made a show of dropping his head and splaying his ears as he'd drawn close. He saw no reason that they should stand on formality if they were going to be sharing space. Dutch liked to be comfortable, and like he fluffed his pine boughs before bed, so too did he try his bed to shape relationships as they formed.

"Or that you could point me in the right direction, at least," the panther amended, not yet sure whether he was interrupting something. "I'm Dutch, by the way," he added by way of introduction, giving another little whisk of his tail. "At your service."

“We are all eaters of souls.”


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The man before him was a large creature, with a toasted coat that darkened across his face.

He was handsome, which was an aspect Kilgitsuk considered superfluous but aesthetically pleasing. As they neared one-another they gathered information: nothing was amiss with this one, aside from the scent of Ariadne upon him, which caused a juvenile frustration to grow inside.

Ah, yes. He gave the man a similar bow, and then relaxed his posture some, which did not ease the innate pride in his stance.

I can show you our hunting grounds? As he offered this, he was hiking off in the necessary direction at a good clip. This man, Dutch, could learn through action.
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This man did not seem much given to chatter. That was almost a shame, since, for once, the panther had plenty to say. Or to ask, rather! But he would try and take the other man's lead for this first encounter, so that he could at least get an initial hunt out of the man before he got on his nerves.

So all he said was, "Please," before they were off. Dutch trailed just behind Kilgitsuk, his long legs keeping the distance between them short as they traveled. It was a few minutes before he felt compelled to speak once more.

"Are you a hunter by trade?" he asked of the other man, wondering what he might say of himself. Ariadne seemed to have described him as such, but Dutch thought some might label him the same. And he did love the hunt, truly! But his heart was for song and story, and it was for this that the panther hoped he might one day be known. In the meanwhile, he only hoped there might be a ram or two in the near future.

“We are all eaters of souls.”


Dan Simmons, 'The Terror'

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Kigipigak was known for being boisterous, affable, and overtly passionate; Kilgitsuk by opposition was cool headed, thoughtful, and sombre. It was an affect he had not meant to enact but fell in to, as he took blow after blow. The loss of a son, a wife, a pack, a family; now he protected himself too strongly. He was guarded and focused.

Therefor when the man asked about his trade, he at first only grunted. His pace gradually slowed as the incline of the terrain forced him to, and at the top of the hill Kilgitsuk paused to gather his breath and survey the tree line.

I am -- I was, a trader. One who travels and makes exchanges. Hunting often, fighting sometimes; whatever was needed. He was squinting now with his focus on the trees, absently answering the question. Now I am many things; a hunter in this moment. Look, there.

A nod of his head and a flick of his snout to the shadows further ahead, where distant cervid shapes milled about in the shadows thinking themselves safe. A small family of deer they could take advantage of - unless Dutch was more interested in study and conversation.
Moontide
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Dutch had met plenty of traders over the years. They traveled the same routes he had between the Spine and the Valley, and although he'd not had much to offer them, he'd enjoyed trading songs and stories with them when he could get them to stand still.

"No longer? he asked, but the panther could guess at what had happened. It got awful lonely, that kind of life. Even traveling with Valiant, Dutch had begun to long for something more.

He felt a warm bloom of kinship despite Kilgitsuk's aloofness, but his eyes tracked the movements of an aging doe rather than studying the man beside him. He felt they could certainly take her down together, but his worries were elsewhere.

"Cloud woman means to overwinter above the snowline," he said, only now turning his gaze back toward his companion. "The deer will be down here."

“We are all eaters of souls.”


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Cloudwoman? Kilgitsuk broke his tracking of the doe to glance at the man. He assumed they meant Ariadne, which meant he knew of the village and perhaps that he sought her eye for spring. Kilgitsuk was not surprised that Ariadne might have many options - he was more surprised (and concerned) that there were already strangers popping up and seeking, given that winter was on the horizon.

Yes, that is a good point. Kilgitsuk could agree with the observation but he did not see a problem. She is mending, and the caves will be of good use to her and the others as winter comes. Traveling down the mountain for hunting will not be a problem - I think it will be good to have such distance, so that the deer see no reason to leave the area.

No doubt having a family of wolves moving to the glacier would disrupt prey migration, and if the villagers slept above in the ice and pine, the wolves could descend as needed.

You have met Ariadne, the man had observed; Are you staying in the village?
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Dutch absorbed this information without seeming to agree or disagree, but inwardly, he felt a thread of concern. The snow hid many dangers on the craggy mountain peaks. He did not doubt that he and Kilgitsuk were both capable of hunting deer below and bringing meat back up for Ariadne, and any others who might need it, but he thought them both equally capable of slipping and injuring themselves in turn. Even a small strain could make that journey far more difficult in the cold and snow.

"I mean to," he replied, turning his gaze back to the deer. "Long ago, when my grandfather first came to this land, he joined a pack that lived on this peak. Silvertip."

The panther flashed a grin at the other man. "It is where he first fell in love," he added, and then he set off, slinking toward the deer with only a brief backward glance to see that Kilgitsuk would join him.

“We are all eaters of souls.”


Dan Simmons, 'The Terror'

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You get #1000! (*Permission was given to pp Dutch through the hunt.)

He was right to assume this man was one of many drawn to Moonsong by Ariadne, and he would be wise to keep an eye upon him; then again, Kilgitsuk did not feel threatened by the presence of other men on the average day, and caught himself wondering why he was so on-edge about it. It wouldn't help the hunt, so he stowed these thoughts for rumination later.

It would be useful having someone that knew the mountain. Dutch mentioned the name of the connected peak and Kilgitsuk made a mental note of it - Silvertip. His comment about love made him shoot Dutch another look, but the other man was already off at a run through the trees.

Without another word Kilgitsuk got to work.

He knew it would be impossible to hide himself once the little family of deer caught sight of him. He tried to move swiftly and with purpose so that when the inevitable happened, he would spook them in the direction of Dutch. The chosen doe they hunted was the slowest of the group to react, which was a blessing, and when she did Kilgitsuk's assumptions played out quickly.

The doe heard the sounds of his approach and then caught wind of the wolves, and by the time she thought to react the others had dispersed in to the woods; Dutch was closer, and when the doe tried to dash she ran directly in to his path. Kilgitsuk came upon the two of them as the doe sought another avenue of escape, but she was already trapped. As Dutch harried her from one side, Kilgitsuk did it from the other; he called out as they worked the deer, Try not to damage her too much; I wish to bring the hide to Ariadne.

As requested.

The doe put up a fight but it would not be enough against their mighty teeth; once felled, Kilgitsuk stalked among the trees for a few moments to catch his breath, and returned to the felled beast with an energy that wasn't previously shown.

A good hunt! He commended the other man. Eat, if you'd like. We can strip the rest for storage and I will take the hide.
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The hunt was as swift and painless as anyone could have hoped for, save perhaps the doe herself. Dutch whispered a little prayer for her as she died, and then lifted a bright-eyed look to Kilgitsuk, about to offer first dibs. He was pleased to have it offered to him instead, and so repressed the urge to tease: Age before beauty!

"The pelt," he said instead, though of course he had heard of this before. His own aunt wore the skin of a coyote in the colder months. Her southern blood was stronger than his own, and her own pelt too thin to keep her quite as warm as she would've liked. Perhaps their smallness contributed to their tendency to get cold?

He was was careful with the kill, opening the throat to let out the blood before looking back to Kilgitsuk.

"Will you show me how?" he asked, having never seen the act of preserving a pelt. A doeskin did not seem terribly useful to him for providing warmth, but the ways of this people were strange! There was plenty still to learn. "Perhaps our next hunt can be for mountain goat," he added, gazing up at the peak once more. "You can bring her something thicker for the winter."

“We are all eaters of souls.”


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The other man spilled the doe's blood, which stained the earth and the ice, and perfumed the air in a way that Kilgitsuk found nostalgic; he missed doing this as often as he used to, and vowed in that moment to use his hunting skills more often. When Dutch requested to watch as Kilgitsuk worked, he merel nodded acquiescence.

They would eat and they would work, with Kilgitsuk being patient with his cutting of the hide. He would cut the belly and portion the innards so that they could be stored; peeling at the soft tissue with his teeth, or wedging his digits between the fat and the muscle; it was something that would take time, and during some moments he would ask Dutch to take this, move that — fetch water to clean parts, or take morsels before they spoiled.

What was left after hours together was a well carved, naked carcass. Kilgitsuk was bloodied up to his chest from the work, with red and pink stains across his muzzle and up to his brow. A mask of red which was slowly drying, and gave him a grotesque appearance.

He would need to bathe before presenting anything — but the work was done, and the sun was tilting towards a very early setting. Will you take the rest of the meat to the village? I must soak the pelt — and, hah, myself. Finally a touch of humor entered his voice. Dutch was a good worker, and he appreciated all the help.
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There wasn't much to the process aside from being very careful; it wasn't terribly exciting, but Dutch was glad for the lesson all the same. More than that, he appreciated the quiet communion the shared. It was good to know that he would not want for companionship in this place.

"Certainly," the panther replied when Kilgitsuk determined it time to quit his company. "Enjoy your bath."

Dutch did as he was bade, bringing the meat to their commonplace so that it might be shared. And then, feeling accomplished, he laid down for a nap.