Noctisardor Bypass schwarzemünze

It did not sit well with Kigipigak that they had run the wolves out of this place, purely for the fact that he knew some of them. The previous issumatar was an intimidating woman—and more importantly her children held strong ties to Tartok. Kigipigak should not have been so bothered; this was the way of things in the northlands, the strong conquering, the strength of Tartok spreading.

His own allegiance was to Mahler now, to these wolves who cowered beneath their boulder like bugs. Perhaps a change of scenery would strengthen them too. Kigipigak hoped so; he was not so fond of these wolves yet and held strong doubts.

To see the interior of the bypass, treading across stale claim lines or taking the time to mark them over, gave Kigipigak a new appreciation for Mahler. The man was older and more experienced in things to be sure, although a move such as this felt spontaneous and more exciting than Kigipigak expected. He was glad that fate had thrown him in the elder's path.

While Kigipigak patrolled and lurked, he watched Mahler. The man swiftly dispatched a plethora of coyotes and decorated the edge of the terrain with their bodies—a brutal display Kigipigak found intriguing rather than disgusting. He approached one such dead, mangled body and chuffed over it appraisingly.