Big Salmon Lake I know what you'll do

The lake draws him close. He lingers and watches as the water drifts against the bank, waiting to see if fish will come to the surface. Sometimes in Unnuakvik, Kigipigak would sit for hours and watch for their tails slapping, or their faces nursing oxygen as if to drink; he wondered if it were the same in this place.

It was quiet and still here. The slowly dying embers of autumn would be replaced by the empty-handed grasping of tree branches; naked against the sweeping winds, ready to fill with snow. Kigipigak wondered if there would be much snow here, too.

So lost in his thoughts was Kigipigak that he did not hear the approaching wolf. He did not smell her, as the wind was not in his favor to do so, and he only looked up when the sound of rain alerted him. First he looked at the clouds—of which there were scant many—and then he saw the moving shape of autumn incarnate.

She was small but well furred, reminding Kigipigak of the maple forest he had sighted near the Watch. He called to her with a sharp bark—rising to his feet and treading closer, issuing a friendly chuff once attention was grabbed. His posture was neutral, his tail wagging in a friendly sway.