Duskfire Glacier and maybe i froze when

It was curious to hear a summons so late in the evening, the Qimmiat's ears rising as her freckled crown turned in the direction of the echoing howl. It took but a moment to gather her tufted legs of churned milk beneath her, pushing the pelt she worked aside for a moment before gathering the white fur she was curing in her maws as gingerly as if it were the winterwhite form of one of her newborn nieces or nephews she tended so carefully. A pang stabbed her heart at the thought, thinking of those she had cared for as her own cubs, before she shoved all reminiscings of Salik's Kallalit from her mind. She was a dead woman to them after all. Her grief meant nothing to the ones she had called family, to those who would curse her as nothing more than a malicious spirit if they could see her now. 

By the time she had reached the borders that @Wintersbane (reference) had tasked her with guarding and the dark youth who lingered upon them, she had concealed the memories from view back into that shadowed corner where they were typically confined. She met the girl of gilded accents -- who was perhaps just shy of counting her first winter -- with a soft, curious noise that was muffled by the hare's pelt. Imaq was quick to set the fur down, offering a smile that was warmer than any tundrian's had a right to be though a bit wan. 

"Greetings upon you," the tribal woman dippped her head in typical fashion, the move somewhat overtly formal and brewed in a depth of respect that suggested kindness.