Herbalists' Cache poison arrow

Nagruk was a woman commanded, who sought then to command. What? Who? Tikigâk saw nothing of worth here among the splintered remains. What did Nagruk note? What was she missing? 

(Certainly plenty—Tikigâk would never be renowned for her wisdom.) 

Tikigâk wrinkled her muzzle at the scene before her. Here is what she saw: None here displayed loyalty for the woman given a name that meant nothing in their world when given without blood. Not even Tikigâk could regard her then as such—why? The blood that had been spilled was that of Issitoq and that of another Tikigâk did not know. 

As one wolf sauntered forth in challenge, Tikigâk looked among the rest. 

For all of Nagruks time there, what was given to her by her fellows now? Nothing. It was clear that they would prefer death to the rule of Nagruk. To even the rule of Sun Eater, who lay prone and useless and, with perhaps some of his last breaths, had placed Nagruk in a position that none responded to. 

Tikigâk would not fight among these wolves. She did not trust them at her back, nor did she want them then, as they were this day, by her side. 

She stepped now toward the side of Nagruk, ear twitching as she watched the small crowd that remained. Not Tartok, she rumbled, though she doubted that Nagruk would need reminding in the face of the response she had been provided. They had ignored her call to arms. 

These wolves had been given an opportunity that none would likely receive again. She did not care for the reason in which they did not take it. Nagruk perhaps offered it to see what the wolves here were made of, and Tikigâk saw in their answering of her that there was nothing to be desired here. Nagruk had offered these wolves more than they deserved. 

The wolves loyal to Sun Eater would prove such a thing in the ways that many wolves she herself had killed in the claiming of their territory had… when Tartok needed more land, more resources. She saw echoes of the dead among those that turned their faces to her sisters in arms demand. Pride. Ego. It so easily dominated their instinct to live—to know that surrendering meant survival. 

Against Tartok, it was a fatal flaw. 

We go. 

Tikigâk would leave them to their graves.