Blackfoot Forest We are made of all those who have built and broken us.

The waif shifts on small, nimble paws as if caught between following or remaining behind. Her silver gaze slides to the side, a guarded tint clouding her eyes with lingering suspicions. Regardless, the girl's feet seem to pull her forward towards the nanuk as she neatly fits into his shadow. Tiqaqq's stsa'  appears to be experienced in following, for she's calm as she finds a hesitant place at his side. 

The spearwife is silent at the mention of his family for she's detached herself from having one; the thought of seeing one in action is alien to her. There's an almost pleading quality to his offer, as if deep down the bear wants her to follow of her own accord.  The empath can sense that for some odd reason, Siarut wants her to come with them though she's unsure why. The thought that someone might want her company is queer, even more so than the longing she felt to follow after him.

Tupilaq seems to remember some shred of her decency for she murmurs a quiet ,"Thank you." Her muzzle reaches out, as if to brush against his shoulder with gratitude, but at the last second the spearwife drops it - thinking better of the idea.