Silver Moraine chase

attn @Faust but open!

 

She and Nagruk had left Saatsine, her own time more short lived than the Tartok woman and man she had found. Now to find him—and then, then they would go. 

Nagruk was to cover ground in the opposite direction. Should no path be found, they would reconvene again at the location they had begun.

War, apparently, loomed. Not her own. 

Better fed, at least, for her brief time with the caribou hunters Tikigâk marched along an easy path made by others that had passed through well before she. The warwoman had been sure to remove from her person all indications that she had ran with Saatsine, but to her good fortune she had scarcely done so in any case. 

By the time she strode onto the Moraine, she smelled only of herself—and something sweeter, too, that grew stronger each day. This journey tempered her; Tikigâk was feeling rather irate, though could not discern the source. 

At least it was not an unusual mood. It was one she knew how to resolve.

The surrounding Wilderness would hear the scream of a fox and a snarling rejoinder before chaos erupted.

It was brief, and was over before it began—silence prevailed with Tikigâk, who picked up her limp prize and carried it with her. Her frustration eased some; her ears pricked to listen for any other that might have taken interest in the commotion.