Blackfoot Forest Iktsuarpok

That is fine! :)

He is laying in the sun, sprawled and useless, when the air starts to feel a little different. Heavy, maybe one could call it. The familiar aroma of the mountains enters his nose and he lifts his snout with a startled look. His first thought is of his mother, naturally, and he scrambles to his paws just as the stranger comes drifting through the tree line. There is another scent there though - one like prey - and the boy's need for sustenance outweighs his personal desire to be reunited with his family. He scrambles towards the scents just as the stranger emerges, not hearing them as they speak.

His eyes are soon caught upon the golden-furred creature draping the wolf's neck; there isn't time for him to consider the strangeness of the sight of such a thing, whether it is alive and poised there or dead and ornamental, it smells healthier than anything he's hunted for himself - and Mesa launches himself towards the stranger and their little animal friend, loosing a desperate snarl as he vies to grab for the mustelid.