Larksong Grotto Quånitǐge

Standing at attention, her ears cupped forward, the she-wolf hears it all before she sees it. Tikigâk knows better than to linger, and huffs out a heavy breath. An ear swivels to the right as she hears the commotion draw nearer, and Tikigâk does not delay. She is in motion, but speed is not where Tikigâk excelled.

And so it is no wonder that the wolf that fled caught up swiftly. Tikigâk can hear her, too, crashing through the woodland to escape the screaming boar—Tikigâk needs no encouragement to continue to run. From behind comes the other, and Tikigâk watches as they surge ahead. 

Ayovi looks to be crafted for the chase. Streamlined and sure-footed, her swiftness appears inherent. Tikigâk, alternatively, was a wolf built to deliver the killing blow—to drag her opponents down with her great weight the moment they were within her proximity, exhausted by a wolf such as the one that surged ahead. 

Endurance, at least, they both surely carried; Tikigâk counted on outrunning the savage beast behind them, and listened for it still. She was silent but for her own heavier footfalls—she maintained her own momentum, pressing ahead.