Duskfire Glacier they will not be hurt.

Angakkoq wandered beneath lilac skies of dawn, tufted paws of snow-powdered froth whispering and whisking over the half-frozen terrain that had become both familiar and beloved. The first bright rays of orange had begun to wink over the equally vivid horizon of the Glacier's iceplanes as she quickened into a light trot, warming her stiff muscles. Imaq squinted emeralds of seafoam against its light fondly, absorbing the rays as they kissed her face -- wondering if perhaps Êrsta had missed something. If Sedna was to be the orphaned girl's mother, why would it have been so improbable that Siqiqniq were her true sire? The truest father she had ever known anyways, the sun who had watched over her entire journey and lit her path.

The morn had begun to break bright, promising the fair warmth of a temperate spring day when the she-dog reached the meadows blanketed in lavenders and other wildflower -- the skull of some creature from one of her catches held gingerly in spotted jaws. Amongst the edges of the glen would Imaq stop to place the offering neatly amongst the roots of some shrub, compiling a secret sort of altar hidden amongst the valley's budding foliage. 

It was almost like a game, wondering if any would find the trinkets she left tucked amongst the flowers.