Kildeer Rest trappings of starlight

Tikigâk ate with him, listening on as he she did. Her ears twitch in understanding and as he spoke of there being no others without his permitting it, Tikigâk rumbled. In this she would move with him. Tikigâk saw the reason behind it—it was the same, within Tartok, and Tikigâk understood why. 

His next words brought Tikigâk’s attention back to him, hearing him entirely. He had seen her strength, her capability—he knew he had picked rightly. The same look was leveled upon him—Tikigâk did not doubt her choice. 

She moved to the front of the fawn, beginning to dig into its crown—she extracted the choice bits from it to eat, before she none-too-carefully began to bear brutally into the place where neck and spine connected. The thing was so frail in its youth that it was an easy task, and she moved to bring to him the small skull, placing it before him. 

An unspoken message, but one he surely would know the meaning of. A memory to keep. Something they had made their own through a simple show of strength—something they would continue to do, together. 

Tikigâk watched as he smeared bloodmatter upon her, and moved to make him the same way with an approving rumble. Yes. She would move with him, there was no question of it. 

He bid her eat, and Tikigâk need not be asked again as she stepped toward the meal to finish what little was now left. There would be no scraps for the scavengers—they two had made sure of that.