Duskfire Glacier autumns hunt

Tunerk had a vague sense of the things that he did. She was learning more of their culture and the Otherworld as the days went on, but only now was she beginning to grasp it. She could feel Things, but did not know what to define these Things as. Perhaps they were spirits. Tunerk felt it most when she was near her brother, though it was an inexplicable thing to her. He could name it—she was simply aware of it. It was not like the feeling that someone was watching you; it brought her no unease.

His squint was met with a playful nip to his whiskers, though whether or not she struck a single one of them would depend on his attempt at evasion. Her attempt was halfhearted at best, and utterly lackadaisacal at worst. Tunerk had noted his encouragement, after all. It was this she took to heart and what meant the most to the cub. I am faster than you, she teased, strutting forward with a wolfish grin. Whether that was true or not was to be determined, but she had meant to incite him to a race.