Qeya River arjuni-akt-i

A familiar voice called from the riverside.

Kigipigak saw Lane and grinned, bounding from his spot among the snow-capped shadows to meet her at a vague halfway point. She motioned to the pale caribou.

I almost don't want to. He murmured lowly.

It looks like it is made of snow! Katiktuktu. The sound of his voice making these sounds did alert the caribou, who raised its head meekly and turned its ear, trying to follow its instinct; but it did not run, and lethargically descended to the river's surface again.

I am glad to find you. If you see it too, then I am not seeing spirits! He laughed softly (for Kigipigak, which still wasn't softly), chuffing while he watched the creature.