Duskfire Glacier I am the cut that ends foes—

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Tikigâk watched him work in silence, reclining onto her hindquarters before sliding onto her stomach. She rest her chin upon her forelegs, observing. Tikigâk was still unused to this custom, but did grasp its importance to both Faust and Darukaal at least. That he did this for her—for them—meant something. While many things could be lost on her, this physical act of labor was not. 

The snow continued to fall as her mate worked. Tikigâk, however, did not feel the bite of the cold past her thick furs. Her body heat prevented the build up of the white stuff on her furs for a time until the snowfall was no longer gentle. 

Tikigâk would wait until he was finished before she rose to begin her own work. The Darukaal warrior took longer, this time, in her dismemberment of the creature. This work was not so meticulous, and rather brutal. She ate through meat to make the process a little easier, and from there it was all teeth and muscle. But before too long, Tikigâk had its bloodied skull between her teeth. Her own gift for him.

She delivered it to him with a wave of her plume. How it contrasted the smaller one of the fawn! But the message remained true: enemies within, enemies without—they will fall when against our fangs. 

Tikigâk would carry it for him, and aid him too in carrying the furs if he needed. But not before she again sated a more physical need, one she revealed to him with the flick of her plume. Again Tikigâk hungered—for him. Such was the way of her season. She pressed against him with a rumble before she drifted in front of the sightless eyes of the cougar. 

Here. Now. His strength and vigor breathed life to the flickering flame within her, and set it ablaze in a roar she could not then ignore.