Moonsong Glacier tulatuk

Kilgitsuk was watching the sky when he sensed the presence of another being. Whether it was the sound of footfalls or a more instinctual awareness is unclear to him, only he twitches an ear and then his shoulders brace when a voice reaches out. As the trader turns his attention, a look slips through his usually warm gaze, something of a shadow, briefly.

Belong to? No, but, we are of the same people. It has been a while since Kilgitsuk has seen another person, let alone someone who speaks his language. Another moment of unnerving familiarity. He licks his lips and drops his gaze, having studied the other man long enough to see the scarification upon his face, judge his build, his age—if he is a threat, Kilgitsuk gives no indication that he is worried.

You come from the coast. What do you know of these mountains?