Wapun Meadow in the way you're walking,

tvar's ears swivel toward her as her low voice murmurs by his ear. her command settles easily into his mind, and he gives a faint nod, blue eyes narrowing as they fix on the deer ahead. left wing, he murmurs, his voice little more than a low rumble, quiet enough not to carry far. it pleases him, the way she takes charge, her confidence a fire that warms something deep within him. when her tail flicks across his flank, he feels it like a spark.

as she moves into position, tvar watches her briefly. it’s a sight to behold, and he allows himself one fleeting moment to admire her before he turns his focus back to the task at hand.

he takes his place on the left, moving low and steady, each step muffled by the snow. his muscles coil beneath his thick pelt, the hunter in him awakening fully now. his gaze flicks between the deer and nanuralaaq, reading her signals as if they were his own instincts. the growl she releases is melodic, almost haunting, and it draws the deer’s attention as intended.

tvar holds back, just as her tail signaled, his pace controlled as he watches the deer’s frantic movements. it runs, and he follows, his larger frame moving with surprising ease through the snow. the chase is not yet his to lead, and he trusts her judgment, her plan. still, his body thrums with readiness, every fiber of him prepared to strike when the moment comes.