Snowforest Taiga Anguished.

The snow came in faster than he had anticipated. There was a certain level of ennui plaguing Kigipigak as he roamed, knowing he needed to go back to the ravenhome and do his duty there, but he was distracted by that same sentiment. The last thing Kigipigak wanted to do was piss off his betters — he'd done enough damage with Valmua's help — and he knew, too, that he should be back at the Watch to continue patrols. 

Kigipigak had not thought about the oncoming winter until it was upon him. He'd barely considered the passing of days or the encroaching cold as it wasn't nearly as intense as the far-flung regions of the northlands where he was born. By now Unnuakvik would have been fully stocked for the season and ranging to their more mild second rendezvous to wait out the worst of the season. Here, the winds had only just started to pick up and cool off—then the snow came, and Kigipigak was surprised by it.

He roamed; he was not sure where or for how long. The wonderland captivated him and drew him in to a state of nostalgia. As he drifted between the waves of white falling around him he picked up the scent of blood, then a small trail that might've been made by a deer or a large hare — so he began to prowl along after it. The silhouette of a wolf came out of seemingly nowhere; their tawny coat and creamy scruff making Kigipigak think of Valmua.

Let you off your leash then? Kigipigak called out to her as he closed the distance, nearly stepping on the piled rabbits in the process. Over the burm now, Kigipigak looked a bit annoyed, and then noticed the stranger's coat wasn't quite ruddy enough. Their figure was more rugged, thick in places where Valmua was curved; in short, it wasn't who he thought it was. A flicker of understanding swept across Kigipigak's face. Oh, you're not who I expected.