Dawnlark Plains Seven, six, eleven, five, nine-an'-twenty mile to-day

AW, cameo by @Silatuyok

kuvtak stands at the edge of the treeline, a towering shape against the dying light. breath curls from his blackened maw in quiet huffs. he is broad-shouldered, long-limbed, a beast carved from night and northern stone.

the wind carries blood to his lips, and he drinks it in. it is fresh, maybe a day or so old, and he creeps forward with intent. pauses at the rise of a ridge, grass chest-high.

caribou. a small herd, and one spooked by failed hunt. one of the cows walks with head down, favoring one hind leg, and in the quiet kuvtak chooses her. she belongs to him now.

he lunges, silent as death itself, and it is over by the time the dust settles. the grass runs dark where he drags the caribou aside, its final breath steaming in the cold.

and when he speaks, it is not to himself. not to the carcass nor the woods beyond. to someone behind him who thinks themself clever, unseen. "you've been following me," he lifts his bloodstained muzzle. "you ought to know better." he turns slowly, tongue slipping over teeth. a low chuckle rumbles in his chest, deep and rich and a touch off-putting.

"come now. there's meat enough for two."