Phoenix Maplewood kupp ikutak ⊛

In time Kigipigak had navigated around the mountain range in the north, to the river, where he picked up the trail of the herd once more and followed it further.

Every so often he would come across an obvious path and a less obvious path; one which was clear and wide, while the other meandered and tapered in odd places, which was lost more often than not. He knew to keep an eye out for these meandering paths because the sick caribou moved differently from the healthy ones.

One such path cleared the frost-heavy meadow and moved in to the depths of a maple forest. Here Kigipigak would have the most trouble. There was frost along the outer limits of the wood, but enough ambient warmth from the sunlight that the rest would melt. The paths were lined with dulled browns, some sparks of gold, and enough patches of darkness that Kigipigak's keen eyes would struggle regardless.

He could not smell the caribou here but he could not pass it by. The mindless way that these sick creatures moved meant there was less logic to follow while tracking them. He moved in among the trees and began to investigate.

For @Inkalorë!