Qeya River the speed of thought

Njord sucked in a breath as Kigipigak challenged the seafarer’s ask. Already his hackles threatened to rise but, with a slow exhale, the red-tail steadied himself. Peace was difficult to hold onto in the Northerner’s presence, but Njord did his best. He knew himself. How easily he was riled by the pale man’s jeers… and so he placed an image of a calm sea in his mind’s eye.

“Aye,” Njord admitted curtly, “that’s right.” His toes curled against the snow as if to better ground himself. A fat fish laid before him, and yet Kigipigak did not see it as an equal trade.

“I ‘eard yer caribou herds became sickly an’ died. I can bring ya food from tha sea.” A small movement caught Njord’s eye and his gaze landed on a svelte, shadowy woman just beyond her pale counterpart. There was a soft camber to her sides. One of Njord’s brows raised and his eyes flicked back to Kigipigak. "Hours of huntin' doesna guarantee a kill. Trainin' me would," he added, and hoped it was enough to turn his mind.