Whitebark Stream upon one summer's morning

it takes kivaluk a prolonged moment of assumed freedom to realize that he is not actually alone. her footfalls draw his errant attention with a small swivel of his left ear and then after a few more paces, proven with a glimpse over his streamlined shoulder; wiry with muscle that had weeks ago been cub fat.

he was still growing but more and more he noticed less of a distance of height between his mother and him, and before his temporary departure: his father and him.

he no longer felt so small. only a little bit awkward as he continued to grow into his lanky legs and too big paws.

he does not recall the woman's name — unsure if it was ever mentioned to him — but in his desire to become more involved with natigvik with his father's trip he is less interested in playing and has learned that there was a woman presently under amalia's care.

black, leathery nostrils flare, discreetly taking in her scents: notable of natigvik ...and yet, he does not exactly know if she intends to stay. which seems almost important as he considers it; his steps drawing to a pause before he turns to face her.

i don't need to be babysat. he says in way of introduction; the prickly nature around strangers that had developed during his time in moonglow making its appearance. it was something, he considers, he would need to work on; but then again he assures himself it's fine because she isn't technically apart of their pack ...but she's using their medicines and amalia's time.