Whitebark Stream I cut my bangs with some rusty kitchen scissors

Issorartuyok hummed thoughtfully again. The northerner was not certain if the helpful girl had brought up the prospect of joining into the ranks of her own glacial pack. The snow-dusted wolf had assumed that this was because she did not believe there to be space for someone of his stature, his culture. It had not bothered him to think Meerkat had avoided offering him a place within the village she had pledged herself to.

If I am to live in these lands, I should like to meet your village leader – Winterbane, the northerner admitted with a thoughtful waver of his tail. It would do well for him to know the other leaders in the area, those who had already made their villages and had started their families.

Will your glacier pack allow for a visitor, if I should decide I would not like to stay? Issorartuyok inquired of her. He didn’t wish to insult them or to take advantage of what could have been a kind offer. The northerner felt his mind buzz with the prospects that had been described to him – matchmakers, northerners, the bane of winter itself. Issorartuyok was more than curious to learn more.