Frostfire Ridge Therein lies the flowers of truth

The family would be departing soon. His sons had their names and they were proud to carry them; they had brought their chosen prizes from the ceremony to their mother and been praised for it. Kigipigak had broken with tradition when he'd bestowed their names so early, yet it was fated to happen, he was certain of that. It felt right. They were one blood united.

Kigipigak was known for being impulsive, leaning in to the masculine energies that he embodied. Since becoming a husband this had shifted somewhat - every thought was of Sakhmet, every consideration weighed. When he became a father, it shifted again. He thought often of his boys and how they might grow here in the north. Of how proud their grandmother, Sedna, would be.

Such was his mindset as Kigipigak hiked the ridge. He had not come this far north since the birth of his sons, as they needed his constant eye upon them. They were older now and stronger, with their mother keeping watch - or Cerne - and so some freedom returned to the ranger.

He heard the singing of someone's voice ring out across the mountains and stopped his hiking. It was rare enough to find signs of the elk returning, given that they'd fled the area after their illness, but to find a lone wolf roaming here was something else entirely. Kigipigak let his intrigue guide the way, and sought out the faint, warm scent of the woman.

As he came up the ridge to a particularly angular vantage point, the pale man surveyed his surroundings but did not immediately catch sight of the shadow, who was lost within the shade.