Otatso Wetlands Kausittualuk

[table][tr][td valign=center] [/td][td]

There was true beauty in the far north, layered with quilts of snow in the winter and dotted with resilient flora in the summer. The memories she had there were cherished, as well as longed for as she delved deeper and deeper into the endless abyss that was the wetlands. Her movements had become limited, but she refused to throw in the towel. Ever since the yearling had seen the way in which her people hunted, she’d been drawn to the art and had since then trained as often as time would allow. Ever so rigorously, the gradual buildup of muscle had strengthened her legs considerably, allowing for her to move with less restraint than what could have been the case. Still, even with that extra edge, the pace at which she was forced to walk was far too restrictive. Stressed and irritated, she nearly lashed out at the objects nearest to her, just barely having managed to keep from doing so. To allow for herself to get too agitated would then set her on a path to disaster, as reckless actions often did. With a few breaths meant to relax her having been taken, she continued onward with a lighter mind, though there existed, still, some underlying anxieties.

Masked by the land’s strong odour, the scents of other wolves had just about gone unnoticed. Lucky for her, she’d managed to pluck from the stench the familiar smell of her species. Curious, as well as seeking a shortcut out of the area, she veered off to begin trekking in the boys’ direction and quickly discovered that they hadn’t been too far off from her. It’d taken only a short amount of time prior to the crossing of their paths, an occurrence that brought Chulyin to a stop. For a moment, she only observed them, wondering what had brought them there and if, by chance, they were experiencing the same troubles that she found herself facing. They seemed as if they weren’t doing any better off than she had been, but looks could be deceiving. With that reminder fresh in her mind, she remained alert, the thought of being caught off guard by something most undesirable.

Once comfortable with her overall demeanour, she chuffed, but relied not on the sound alone to acquire their attentions. “Salutitsinik,” voiced the Inuk, her volume just above the conversational norm. “Nunak, sungiusimajân?” She needed for the answer to be a positive one, the thought of staying there in the territory for any longer appalling.

[/td][td valign=center] [/td][/tr][/table]