Bramblepoint tattugaurat

Having left the edge of the caldera and the boy, Frolic, Kilgitsuk knew his best chances of fulfilling the request for fresh deer meat would require him to seek out one of the moon tribes. He had not given a timeline for his return. Given what Frolic had said, he had wanted to give the family time to mourn their loss; but he also knew that food would be a boon to the people, and that Frolic meant well in requesting it. He did not want to take too long.

The trader journeyed westward, finding the edge of a lake larger than the one he had gathered the salmon from. He thought to stay upon those banks for a day to plan his travel, recuperate some of his energy, and then head off for the mountains. He had barely begun to make himself a camp when he caught a familiar scent in his nose.

@Amalia? The man murmured to himself. The answer he received came in the form of wind through the treetops: a whispering, flickering sound that undulated around Kilgitsuk as he gave up on his camp, and moved along after it. After another forty minutes or so of exploring and focused tracking, he came upon a game trail that held her concentrated scent.

His brow furrowed, but he followed that next, until he thought he saw a shape standing among the ferns.