Qeya River arjuni-akt-i

Kigipigak entered the water swiftly and set to ending the creature's pain, which filled Lane with relief. The caribou fought still, craning its face and neck away from the northerner's assault, but its life was rapidly spilling out into the flowing river. Soon it stilled, and it's red-rimmed eyes and nose slipped beneath the current. 

Lane waded out to Kigipigik, nodding her thanks. She would not have relished the chore of watching the creature drown. 

The deep hue of the creature's welling blood had stained its ghostly fur a pale, pinkish color. "Oh! The skin.." Lane uttered regretfully. Was it ruined, or would the stain come out? Perhaps if they let the cold water continue to flow over it, it could be salvaged. 

"I took much more joy in the pig hunt," Lane recalled, eyes fixed on the carcass. The pig had fought bravely and fiercely, and there was honor in that. It was dead all the same, but its life was celebrated in that it had been fought for.