Barrow Fields ukiu-pak

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Kigipigak spat a belittling comment, but the venomous critique managed to get right under his skin. The northerner’s words were thickly smeared with contempt and disrespect. It was a routine Njord was accustomed to from his younger days, but it vexed him all the same.  Instead of retorting, the seafarer remained silent, biting his tongue, and merely steeled himself like he had done with Aegir. Perhaps, in time, he would learn to rise above games some wolves played, but for now he let himself steep in animosity. The only thing keeping him there was the promise of food for his family - and this invisible tether was tenuous at best.

He turned to follow Kigipigak along the prey trail, rounding a drift until the silhouette of a doe broke from the winter shrubbery. Njord froze in his tracks, almost like a pointer, as the hunting party assessed their position. He, too, could see their window of opportunity and knew if they lingered too long the doe would spook and make a run. She appeared to be in good health. Could two wolves, with all this snow, bring her down? Njord wagered they would not be able to outpace her, and felt they should wait for a better opportunity. But… prey had been scarce since the storms started. This might be their only chance.

Knowing this, Njord slipped away to better position himself… like a trap waiting to be sprung. It was a tactic that worked on sealions, so why wouldn't it work for a deer?