Duskfire Glacier autumns hunt

The earth seemed to whisper to him with each beat of his paws against it. It urged him forward – on, Sos, on – and encouraged him to release all things that held him back so that he could prevail. Above, the great crow Taggak cried his watchful words. The bear knew that he was safe so long as he had his familiar there; he knew that he could accomplish anything when he was surrounded by natural life. In this, Sos had great power. It could not be said that everyone felt the way that he did about the earth and the living things that sprouted from it. Something ancient seemed to dwell in the pit of his spirit, and it had given him a great deal of strength. Surely, age would only increase the power of that ancient thing. Knowledge would grant him more than he could ever imagine, but if he was true to himself and the stirrings within his gut... he would be indomitable.

Once the fel-light green of his eyes caught sight of Tunerk, he knew that she was closing the space between them. Sos slowed his gait so that she might do so at a faster rate. There was a modicum of competitive nature in him, but it wasn't nearly as prominent as the need to protect those he cared for. Only if his loved ones were harmed would the bear unleash his true power, and that day would be a terrible one indeed. Instead of pushing himself to beat her, he wished to run beside her. They were both sharp in their own ways. Sos wanted to share the space with Tunerk so that she would feel it too.

The children ran. Their youthful limbs carried them across the glacier pack and deep into the heart of their claimed territory. Only when the burning in his limbs became too much for him did Sos slow his place and turn to look at his sister. Surely, it would not harm him if he were to allow her to take the lead and win. She would have felt powerful and he knew that he would have rather her felt impressive for her feat than to wind himself and cause a potential injury. The bear was tired of running, after all. He wanted only to search for signs of something to hunt so that he could quell the burning in the pit of his stomach. With that, the shaman fell from a sprint to a canter and then to a slow trot. His ears were drawn tall atop his crown and his eyes searched the terrain.