Stavanger Bay iniulik

It was good Kigipigak kept his wits about him. A woman drew close to his path, her body resembling a ragged inkblot which exuded hostility; his steps faltered and he stopped short, the heavy mantle of fur across his back beginning to prickle. Her scent was the strongest among all that he'd discovered along the sandy hills.

Kigipigak did not know the name of this place until she bequeathed it to him; he automatically translated it, giving her a nickname in his head that linked the two: Saviktaggak.

To her question he merely lilt, Kigipigak. I am traveling, ah, he thought of the spiel that came to his lips, ready to fly, but bit it back. In place of that he explained, the sea called to me. I miss it from my old home.

Somehow though, Kigipigak did not think he could appeal to this woman; she was beyond agitated by his presence by the looks of things.