[j] conquistador

The Hunter had not been made to wait long. Patience was something that Kingumut had learned, exhibiting none of it in his early months of life. The master hunter had self taught it, essential to his mastery of his particular skill sets. One could not rush the tracking and the observing of his target for he would stand to lose it before he could even set the game afoot. Despite his high levels of patience the hunter appreciated the promptness as much as he could. It meant that borders of this pack were strongly protected; and by fierce she-wolves at that, for it was a woman that broke through to his line of vision first, her silhouette taking to form the closer that she drew. She asserted herself as dominate with no hesitation, her snarl breaking through the meditated silence of the world around them. Kingumut accepted her assertion, large body lowering to the ground in submission before her. If she was Alpha or not, the hunter could not readily tell but there was little doubt in his mind that she was definitely a leader. These things were easily read by body language, a language that Kingumut felt he understood the best, despite his fluency in the common tongue and Inuit. 

“Tartok,” Kingumut let the name, family and pack alike, slip from his lips in his deep baritone, used but not as often as it could have been. His voice wasn't unpleasant, he supposed, but he rarely saw the need to use it, except in situations when speaking was a necessity. “I seek Tartok.” He told her, mahagony red eyes leaving her for a brief second to study the ebony male that approached next. He took quick stock of his surroundings, memorizing their positions in accordance to his own — nothing short of habit; though it was habit that enunciated his skills and the instinct to survive should anything go amiss. Kingumut would not know Siku's daughter by sight; for all he knew he could have been staring at her paws right now. Had he not found Tartok's branch off he would leave and continue his search elsewhere. Ever the strategist the hunter began to think of the different paths he could take him that would allow him to double back to where he'd started and reunite him with Uncle and the middle brother, should he not be able to find Tartok or Aariak here, which Kingumut had considered as a possibility all along, never one to err to anything other than reality.