Duskfire Glacier I am the cut that ends foes—

his steps slowed, weight shifting low into a quiet stalk. the silence of the wilds told him all he needed to know before his eyes landed on it—sleek, tawny, crouched over a half-frozen carcass veiled by snow.
he chuffed, low and sharp, drawing tikigâk’s eye to the shape in the drift ahead. one ear twisted back toward her, signaling her to hold. he studied the terrain, muscles tense beneath a cloak of stillness. the cat was young. bold, maybe foolish.
he didn’t speak—there was no need. with a flick of his tail, he began to circle, silent as shadow. this would end quickly.

sorry for short!