Moonsong Glacier Tiqriganiannig

A man’s voice returned his howl, filling the air with the sound of his deep response.

The northerner smiled faintly, pleased to know that he was not the only wolf prowling across the glacier that day. If the other man answered his howl, it was probable that he would be friendly. The large wolf lifted his head and peered out, searching for a flicker of movement against the background. There was nothing, but the call had not been too far, not far enough to miss.

Issorartuyok lifted his head and called again, returning the stranger’s voice with his own song.

Hunt with me, his voice carried overhead. The grey skies loomed above, casting the glacier in a cool shade. Along the southern edge of the glacier, he had scented a group of deer. It was possible they could bring one down, two men. If they succeeded, the stranger could feed his kind with the remains.