Duskfire Glacier [m] Village song

She picked up on his cue easily, answered it as she saw with him what was ahead. Tikigâk crouched low beneath the wind, watching the herd graze in a way which revealed they were still not wise to their presence. Tikigâk did not rush forward, not yet—she continued to wait and to watch as the herd members milled about. It would not be a long chase, which by no means meant easier—their time would be shorter to suss out the weak link within the caribou she scouted. 

There. One too-slow flick of the tail, indicating perhaps lethargy… from sickness, from age… her sharp gaze fell upon that herd member, a snipers accuracy. It stumbled at the edge. Yes—that was the one, the soft underbelly of the herd. 

Tikigâk moved only once the time was right. The herd did not know two from twenty—only that the hunt was on. Tikigâk made no noise as she barreled toward the herd that had bolted, ignoring the strong, weaving through, within—Tikigâk veered, driving toward the beasts she intended to flush out.

Always the limp, the lame… the last. The elders, or the prey with a broken step. The wolves knew as well as the wind that brought them this news that this past winter was their last. 

She carved that one from the herd, flushing, feeling her companion join her to cut them fully from the herd—they failed once in their immediate effort to rejoin their fellows, fearing the thunderclap of her bite. Her self-assured stride did not falter. 

Two flicks of her own ear. Now!—knowing the Kaan would know precisely what to do.