Duskfire Glacier Birds of a feather

He led the stranger deeper into the territory. And so, if the stranger failed to gain Tikigâk’s faith, he had thusly signed the others death sentence. Tikigâk was not inclined to let others live that knew the lay of their land when they might seek to come back for some matter of revenge. She could not know the mind of the other, nor would she waste minutes guessing. Having seen the other capable of stupidity, it seemed an inevitable outcome should this wolf fail in this, too.

Terribly, it seemed to her like an inevitable outcome regardless. Faust gave the other a chance Tikigâk would not, and so she would see this through—for him, and him alone. Could the other redeem herself? 

It would take more than this hunt. But it was a start, the very beginning of a perilous path. 

Tikigâk heard her mate, ear twitching. She peered to him in silence, stepping toward his side and sharing a quick look with him, slowing some to indicate to him, she will take us downwind. It would be important for them to know in their future hunts if this one could follow her nose, or if this sense was something she had been born without. It did not mean she could not hunt well beyond that, but it would mean that the other could not track the things they might someday ask of her to, if she succeeded this day. 

The bear of a wolf looked toward the one that had trespassed and gestured. The wind shifted. Show us the way, Tikigâk rumbled. Not an offer to lead the hunt, but an opportunity nonetheless. Are you capable of being a guide?