If not for the fact that Nefarious needed to venture out in search of medicinal ...and poisonous plants for his private stores he probably wouldn't have really strayed from Swiftcurrent Creek. The shaman wasn't nomadic by any sort of nature, instead favoring the company of those within his pack as opposed to those who lived on the outside or belonged to other packs. Sure, Nefarious could be charismatic with them as the situation called for it, but by a rule of principle he tended to be condescending, which tended to leave a bad first impression, admittedly. There was a reason why he hadn't been ideal for the diplomatic leader position in Akkuma, why instead he, would he have stayed, ended up becoming the Angakkuq, or spiritual leader instead, not unlike how the Amazon women led: with two Queens, one that handled diplomatic situations and one that handled war. Nefarious was okay with traveling out of pack lands, so long as he was accompanied by another pack mate, or the day was to remain solitary.
Regardless of his reservations of leaving the Creek, the shaman had set out early in the morning, before the rise of the sun in his seemingly endless hunt for indigenous plants that were familiar to him. Thus far, it was proving to be harder than he'd first imagined, but still he kept looking. He was determined to earn the Healer trade so he could once again resume his true calling. It was hard to consider himself a shaman when his private stores were so pitiful. No respectable shaman ever had a cache so small and barren. Nefarious would never place Sos or Atka on the proverbial back burner, though he'd been taking time to get to know his pack mates some instead of jumping right into the boat of anti-socialness and rooting around for what it was he needed in his stores.
Gaining knowledge of one's pack mates was a clever tactic, and would, the Kesuk had little doubt, prove to be useful — for many reasons more than being social though that was a big part of it. His hunt had taken him closer to a pack's lands than he had initially intended to go, and steps paused until he came to a complete stop away from the borders. He was more than an adequate distance away from them, yet even so in the cloudy recesses of the early morning, the rising sun struggling to break through the obscurity of thick, monotone clouds that threatened to block it out entirely, he was weary and the hackles along the back of his spine bristled and prickled with instinctual unease. Claws scraped at the ground of a holly bush. It's berries and leaves were known to be toxic, causing anything from diarrhea, nausea, vomiting, stomach and intestinal issues which was, thankfully indigenous to both Seahawk and Teekon. It wasn't much but it was a small start to his cache of poisonous plants, at the very least, and a start was better than nothing, ultimately.