Sunset Valley punnilivik

Leaving the grotto was likely a poor decision but Kigipigak did not like being confined. He needed the open air around him—even if that air was screaming through the trees and laden with ice. He still thought of the Watch and worried to himself over the remaining wolves; whether they would survive the increase in snowfall, if they had met fates worse than he did, living on the dangerous precipice that was the mountainside.

Kigipigak even thought of Valmua as he marched his way through the incessant flurries. Did she notice his absence? Did she care? Did he care, for that matter, if that pained her—or was the thought of her pining and worrying more of an amusement? He warmed himself on thoughts of Valmua's curvaceous hips and sunlit coat; reminisced over the way she had mounted him in domination and then, in his imagination, reversed the situation. It helped to stave off the worst of the cold so long as Kigipigak kept his fixation purely cosmetic.