Deepwood Weald arctocephalus

The man began to move and Sulukinak watched him, at first too cautious for her own good. She eyed him the way a cat might watch a cougar - seeing it as familiar, but somehow monstrous, dangerous. He was slow and purposeful as he moved and showed no sign of harm. When she felt comfortable enough to follow, it was in fits and starts; moving silently through the snow with such ease it was clear that Sulukinak was accustomed to it.

His question could have been answered by observation alone. She slipped in to shadows and appeared to vanish from time to time. Her voice came drifting to him: From where there is no sun. She did not know the cardinal directions. From another pocket of darkness, It is cold, always.