Qeya River anilaaktuk

The recruit was wounded; blood perfumed the air cleanly. Kigipigak looked towards Tulukiri with the concern of a parent and with a glare and a turn, she petulantly averted her gaze, but that was enough of a moment for Kigipigak to see she was alright. She would need tending-to, as well as Amalia.

His wife spoke, ordering the darkling to go, with the forceful tone of a true issumatar; and whether Amalia dispersed or not, Kigipigak would motion to the golden girl to follow also. They both needed to be tended-to, and it would benefit Tulukiri to learn of Natigvik on her own terms.

When they were alone, Kigipigak turned his full attention - and his bursting heart - to Sakhmet, who he moved towards as if to embrace. There was blood on his coat; spatter from the chaos, a vibrancy anointing him. He was unkept, with grass stains and dried blood upon himself.

And she, perfect. Wild in her way, healthy, livid from the abrupt nature of this reunion; all he wanted to do was sweep in close and hold her, so he did.