Bearclaw Valley starving in the belly of a whale

Apologies on my end this time!

The more she moseyed the more frustrated she felt, and hungry, although both sensations were pretty common these days considering her age and level of ability. Ningiok thought about how easy it had once been to prowl the ice wastes for sleeping hare, and began to reminice about such moments where she felt the cold wind on her back and felt the splintering bone between her teeth; it took over her mind to the point where the old woman forgot about the present. Memory melded in to memory, and soon she was thinking about the poignant moment of her first hunt, her brothers and sisters racing around her after a great caribou, kicking up snow as they drove it deeper —

And she was brought back to the needy present by a sharp bark, the sound jostling her mentally and flooding her with temporary confusion while the rememberance of icy winds dwindled; she felt the October sunlight cut across her back, felt the dirt and grass beneath her steps, and the many layers of a long-ago life drifted away. The crone stopped her pacing at that cue, the fur of her nape and tail puffing where it still grew long, and she leveled a sharp eye in one direction then the next as she tried to find the bearer of the voice.

It took a little longer than it should have; the sound of something falling and clattering didn't register in her old ears, but once Ningiok spotted the tawny-and-dark child perched on the stretch of rock, she calmed a little. It hadn't occurred to the old woman yet that her wandering had taken her just a little bit too close to the pack's claim. She eyed the child for a moment and then, rolling her eyes a little, huffed a dissatisfied little noise between her teeth.

As she made to depart she spotted the curve of bone—and with a creaky step, noticed the gnaw marks. Her eyes narrowed conspiratorially — and then she reached and snapped at the bone, grabbing it from its place on the dirt and carrying it with her. The child wasn't forgotten, but Ningiok played up her behavior as if she hadn't actually noticed young Nunataq. This was a game she used to play with her own children—to teach them to keep track of their belongings, and force them to be more mindful. Plus, well, she may as well have a little fun while she wandered.