Nova Peak hangfire

so excited to interact with miska!!

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he knows enough of the common tongue—thanks to a well-versed mother—to know he has been shouted at and his ears immediately perk.

past the draping, dried lichen, those cold glacier eyes glimpse up in the distance and find a black brute loitering.

as he steps out, the stinking bear-skin drapes him like a cloth. fashioned to fit the large and lumbering shoulders of the sire before him, it does not quite fit yet, but the adolescent wears it with pride. a yellowed smile widening upon his young face.

not treasure. nowkē calls in response, angling his frame so that he would face horizontally of the other wolf, it belonged to skorpa of the white jaw.

yes, you could certainly tell from its repugnant smell!

dark fur always bark at strangers? he says with a jut of his chin.

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