Blacktail Deer Plateau tuviatchiak

Kigipigak thought that he had a good grasp on these Wilds. There were many valleys, many peoples, most of which he had met hailing from other places. It was like the convergence of many rivers — and then there was this girl, who surprised him. She was not like a river, but a piece of black ice floating atop it. This place was her place of birth and so she held a deeper connection to it. Sakhmet might have been the first Wild-born wolf he had encountered — at least as far as Kigipigak knew it.

As she spoke of her home there was a weight to her words. He listened in his own pensive silence, although it was as short-lived as her tale. Just as well; Kigipigak was not known for being introspective or sombre, and he did not have the patience to be quiet for long.

It is hard to leave the land of your birth, Kigipigak admits. He can sympathize somewhat with Sakhmet's story. In his own case it was not the destruction of his village that caused him to leave, but the death of the man he called his father. That, in a way, was its own kind of destruction.

I am glad you left. He says with a smile, the kind that seems too big for the moment. If you had not, perhaps you would not be here now. I am glad you are here now, with me. This place can be a good home. Fortified on one side with a mountain range and bordered by thick forests elsewhere, the plateau could become a fortress easily enough.