Totoka River odobenus

She had run until she could see the sun again. The seemingly-endless night of the north had gone away, and with it her brothers—and so she was alone in her seeking, running now at a trot while her muscles ached and her lungs burned. When Sulukinak's path cut through grass and came to rest along a shore line, she felt her legs give out utterly.

For a while she lay there, exposed. The river rushing by, but out of reach. Her heart still hammering. It had not yet sunk in for Sulukinak that she could not go home.

had he measured time in the human way, he might have marveled that this girl was nearly a decade his junior.

but perhaps the wolf's way put it in even starker contrast. twenty or more seasons between them—and he wondered, whether he approached, if she saw him as some decrepit ghoul or as something more akin to how he felt.

because he didn't feel so old. but he knew he was, from the glimpses of his reflection and the aching of his bones, particularly on cold days.

aditya approached with a chuff, realizing only after he'd vocalized that she seemed to be in some exhaustion (or distress?).

are you all right, ladki? he queried, voice tinged with concern.

The girl rested as she lay, sprawled out in a frog pose, and when she heard a voice she drew her legs beneath her body again to make herself smaller and more adept for hiding; but she had been spotted, and the man that had come upon her was focused now.

He was old; his eyes were bright though, and yellow like the winter sun. There wasn't anger or aggression to his voice—only concern, which reminded her of the love her mother held for her, being warm in nature, and so she did not immediately think to flee.

Tunillalik, she answered, as if this was a word the whole world knew.

I—we, ran. Found the sun. She did not mean to speak in riddles! But the words stuttered from her, sprinkling the air like rain at a staccato pace, between gasps.

his head began to shake at her single word, though halted at her addition. still, it did not clarify things much for him, and aditya gave her a rueful smile.

i don't know what you're speaking of, ladki, he replied, but are you okay? you seem distressed.

she still was breathing heavily, and he shifted his weight, slightly nervous. if there was some danger nearby—even if strangely characterized—he ought to learn of it. to act accordingly.

He did not know? How could that be? The girl looked at him, whale-eyed, and saw that he was very old; this was something everyone would know, she thought. He had been away from his conclave for a very long time and perhaps he had forgotten.

Tunillalik! She repeated in her exasperated way, trying to catch her breath. In—In the everdark. Where it is ice and deep water. We ran, myself, my brothers — Remembering was not hard, it was still so fresh in her mind's eye, and she lamented with a cry! The whine carrying sharply.

As she squeezed her eyes shut, Sulukinak saw it all again and again and again: Mother with her seal-blood face, the hole in the ice, the markings, the prayer! Who had run first? It did not matter; they had gone, and together had tried to outrun the slaughter — and then the cold came.

No, she could not speak of it. Sulukinak cowered instead.

they did not understand each other, and they would not. aditya drank in her words with concerned calm, heaved a sigh, and then:

are you okay now, ladki? he asked.

for the threat seemed, as given her telling, far away, now, and still she panted and heaved and flinched.

he found himself cringing in wait, too.

It was all so fresh in her mind!

Was she okay? She was alive; is that what he meant? Was she even that? And her brothers weren't with her —

A new wave of panic crept up. Sulukinak tried to tamper it down, swallow it; to embody the dark and the deep water which had threatened to swallow her. That worked, to a point.

I'm... I'm, it was something to focus on at the very least. A mental life raft. I am. I am here. A breath, as steady as she could make it, and another, but her jaw was tense and her teeth set.

She turned to look over a shoulder but she knew her brothers weren't there. They hadn't followed her all the way, and she knew that, but... Still, she looked. And upon turning back, saw the man again, anew.

It was like the embodiment of winter's stagnation had descended upon her. She froze it all out.

I don't know where to go from here.

she settled, though with visible effort. i am here. he knew that feeling. he understood it all too well.

aditya nodded at her next statement, eyes soft upon her face.

you should find a pack that will take you in, he advised. there's strength in numbers. you'll ride out the winter—and feel less alone.

he ought to be settling somewhere, himself. once he'd sorted the visit to ani, he'd figure something out.

find others?

she had become like her mother after all.

lonely. listless. frightened.

these were not new, but sulukinak had never been fully and truly alone with her thoughts long enough to see these things within herself.

even now she was not really alone; but she felt it, this seeping otherness.

without a word she turned from the old man and slipped away, long legs devouring the terrain.

his words went unanswered. aditya's mouth was half-open as she turned, meaning to speak again, to soothe her nervous spirit—but she was gone before he could even draw breath.

he swiped a tongue along his jowls, feeling unsettled. her words had the feeling of a ghost story, and while he was much too old to believe in such things. . .

adi shook himself, squared his shoulders, and carried on.