Moonspear witches brew

There was stirring on the spear. 

Trails coming in and out, some which were familiar, others which were not. Had Tiuttuk return with others, ready to rebuild what had been lost? 

Arrluk remembered their last meeting. When he had come to a place barely alive and only the pibald calico to greet him. She had refused to leave, even if it meant being alone. Arrluk had a hope of his mother being able to convince her where he had failed, yet it seemed after the disbanding of Moonspear, it had become evident she had moved on. Now, returned to her place. 
 
The Waterman sniffed curiously at the borders through the wet earth, picking up the scents of those which now lingered here. His tail waved gently behind him, with a happiness of livelihood again. 

With slippery rock and crevice, Arrluk moved with an ease which only came with him walking over wet and mossy rock along the lake and river beds for fishing. Yet he did not decend far, not accustom to the high mountains even despite his time living here under his sister's reign before. 

Arrluk offers a low woof when the familiar (abd very unique) coat of Tiuttuk could be seen in the distance and, with a hawk on her backside was it? Tiuttuk! A call out, It is very good to see you again!