Duskfire Glacier Ommak

A voice pulled the northerner from his thoughts, drawing his dark face toward the figure of a young boy – not unfamiliar, once Issorartuyok had let his eyes fall on the ghastly scar that stretched along the child’s forehead. It was not an injury that should mark such a young spirit.

After he had witnessed how rough Makatza had been at the pumpkin party, it had not surprised him quite as much to hear that the boy had been hurt by one of his peers. Some children were wilder than others, carried the spirit of a vicious beast in their hearts. Time could temper aggression of that sort, if given the right hand to grow into something productive. Even Issorartuyok’s brother had learned that the sharpness of his fangs was best used for the benefit of his people.

I am patrolling, yes, the northerner answered the child’s question gently, a soft smile formed on his dark mouth.

You will join me? It is good for wolves to protect together.

The young man wished to know if Issorartuyok had been there when night had fallen. The northerner nodded his head softly. The nights when the northern lights danced overhead were special to him. They reminded him of home.