Wapun Meadow this is our celebration

no, she returned to the girl, coming to sit by her. just to watch.

nanuralaaq had not been given much opportunity to simply watch the animals graze, back within her homelands, aside for when they were following the caribou herds. for the rest of the year, spotting something to eat meant taking it down almost immediately, for the risk of going hungry within such a cruel landscape was too high, too deadly.

her pale gaze flickered to the girl, then. but these are hunting grounds, you know? came the accent of an arctic lady. and you seem far from home. are you of ... kvarsheim? though she had not completely familiarised herself with the neighbouring packs, their scents oftentimes came wafting towards the valley, giving opportunity to memorise each of their distinct smells. do your people know you are here?

for she is simply a girl, anything can be dangerous, including the woman beside her.

instead, she gave a sigh, and said: my name is nanuralaaq. and yours?