Qeya River because we are animals,

hunting #3 (I think) @Wintersbane @Iana @Rye (also @Garland and @Tzila if they're already at DFG as well.) but AW for anyone trying to scavenge as well.

The morning dawned silver and still, the last vestiges of winter clinging to the snow-peaked summits ringing the Glacier. The mists clung too to the dark, shaggy silhouettes of the pines and hardwoods as Imaq slipped from her den and wound her way down into the foothills south of Wintersbane's claim. Meltwater had spilled down the mountainside, out of the glacier and into the frosty depths of the Qeya -- which was more like Sedna's seas than the oceans that brought the shepherd to this land. 

The golden dove padded carefully to the water's edge, stopping to test the ice in questionable spots before placing her weight down fully, and bent to take an icy drink. When she straightened, she noticed the fresh tracks broken into the crust of ice and frost around the River's banks. They belonged to a larger animal, a grazer of some kind, but it was hard to tell what kind since the hoofprints were erratic and smeared -- tinged a faint pink with ruby droplets of blood.

Lowering her spotted snout, the wolfdog set off after the cold, faded trail, following it as it wound east across the tundras. The bighorn sheep had a fair head start but Imaq could see what had caused its faltering footsteps as she caught sight of it, a severely broken ankle -- caused by a tumble down the icy summits of the Glacier perhaps. 

The creature was worn and ragged with blood loss but it stumbled on with renewed vigor when it became aware of the huntress, who was not shy about chasing alongside the sheep ewe at an easy pace -- far enough away that she could dodge any desperate kicks or sweeping horns. Now and again, she dove in to snap at the creature's ankles or underbelly until at last it tripped trying to sidestep her nipping teeth. 

It was tangled up by its own wounded limbs and Imaq was quick to scramble up onto the fallen sheep's prone form, pouncing onto its shoulders and sinking her fangs into the side of its neck -- wedging her own head up under the ewe's horns where she couldn't get gored. The sheep bleated and threw herself backwards in one last panicked throe, rolling over the shepherd. It was agony but the position pinned her in place and even forced her incisors to sink in deeper. The grazer struggled for another moment as blood spilled over the shaman's jaws and throat before it finally fell still. 

Imaq held on for another prolonged minute, waiting to make sure the ungulate was truly slain before she heaved herself out from beneath the heavy dead weight of the ewe's neck and shoulders. Panting, blood-soaked, and swaying a little bit, the golden girl merely stared at her trophy in shock before realizing that she wasn't sure how to get it back to the Glacier. 

She coughed, grimaced and winced at the pain that shot through her, and then let loose with a raspy howl to call the other members that had flocked to Wintersbane's arctic kingdom -- hoping they might come help her section the ewe into pieces for easy transportation and storage. She spat a mouthful of blood onto the snowy ground, her own or the sheep's she couldn't be sure, and then began to rip at the wound she'd left in the ewe's neck with the intentions of skinning as much of the pelt off in once piece as she could. 

Tzila had high hopes of integrating herself well into this budding pack. Up until now, she had largely been elusive, sticking to the far edges of the claim. Other times, when she was seen, she was but a fleeting glimpse of a shadow. Today, that would change. She would make herself known. 

From miles away, the tang of fresh blood tickled her nose. Shortly after followed by a raspy call. Dark ears twitched and pivoted, taking only seconds to analyze the message. Someone had made a kill, and they were requesting assistance. Who was she to turn down the chance at succulent meal, while also pulling weight? 

Throwing her head back, she replied in a low, short note. "I am on my way."  Was the encryption, while announcing to anyone else that their assistance would be appreciated. Setting off over the rugged terrain, she let her nose guide her, sharp silver eyes picking out the details of the landscape. After making good progress, she spotted the item of interest. A freshly slain ram, with a rather odd looking wolf hovering over it, muzzle coated in blood. Instead of bothering with an introduction, she let her body language do the talking, uttering only a low growl of approval. Sidling over to the opposite side of the animal, she placed a paw on it's motionless flank, slowly rolling it over to assist in the skinning process.

Shoulders tensed, the cur's speckled head whipped up when she caught sight of a shadow dancing on her peripherals -- Sedna-cursed eyes finding the corvid's darkened edges as her lip twitched, ready to defend such a hard-won kill even if it meant going against her usual nonconfrontational manner or speaking out against a man. She had the Glacier now and the thought of @Wintersbanes' stolid and imposing figure bolstered her as she remembered how he had tasked her with eradicating vermin from their lands. 

Let the wolves come. Let them challenge her right to pack life. If they tried to tell her she was dog or steal the bounty she had claimed for her brethren then Imaq would call her own wolves forth and do her best to stop the interlopers in the meantime. 

The cur relaxed upon sighting the vaguely familiar woman, Tzila if her memory served, and a soft rumble of appreciation escaped the shaman before she dipped her bloody muzzle back to the corpse that was quickly turning into a crimson mess. Silently, more than fine with the other female's companionable silence, Imaq returned to removing the ewe's skin as carefully as she could manage with her canines and claws -- though of course it wasn't as fine as a human's handiwork might look (especially given that she lacked the whole 'hand' part of handiwork.)

I assumed they would already know of each other by now but I don't mind editing if you'd like me to. also sorry for the wait!

OOC: Fine with me, and no problem! <3

While Tzila was one to certainly distinguish between dog, mutt and pure wolf, she would not go so far as to discriminate against any of them. They all shared a common lineage. They were social, pack animals by nature, tuned in to their base instincts. And that was good enough for her. In order to get this fledging pack off the ground, they couldn't afford to be picky. Skill set and contribution came first. Genes, second.

With a hard tug, dark muzzle glistening even darker with blood, she worked cooperatively with Imaq. Her teeth curved to hook just under the outermost layer of flesh and wool, snipping away. Down she clipped steadily, unzipping the carcass with as much care as she could muster. Working the skin off and over the hindquarters would be a more interesting challenge, she suspected. She had never partaken in this before, but found herself enjoying it. Which she signaled with her upright tail in confidence but also in pleasure, eyeing Imaq for the appropriate cue on how to handle the still fleece wrapped limbs.

Imaq had already chewed and peeled back the skin along the neck and shoulder of the beast -- in an almost square shape that was comprised only of the left side of the ewe, given that they had no possibility of flipping Seelie's kill to get at the opposite side. It would need to be skinned and butchered in two halves, especially if no one else answered Imaq's summons. Then, she and Tzila might be able to grab its ribcage and turn it over. Along the beast's chest and across the place where its shoulder met its foreleg the shepherd worked the ewe's skin back tediously -- completely bypassing the task of skinning the sheep's limbs. It was a very difficult task to skin the legs of any creature, especially for a wolf (or dog).

She continued along the bighorn sheep's pale grey underbelly, stopping about halfway along since Tzila had claimed the other end of the hide to work on. From there, she would move to the top part of the slain sheep's neck and work halfway down her spine which was striped with a dark dorsal line. It was a long process, and a slow one, but she would help Tzila with the technique as needed -- since the dark warrior seemed a bit new to the process of curing hides -- and once they'd finished, tug the fresh skin free from the carcass and fold it to the best of her ability. Nosing it into a neater pile, Imaq would set that half of the pelt aside to drag back to the Caverns later.

Once the ewe had been half-skinned, it was time to begin butchering her. They'd have little luck dragging her back whole, heavy as the horned ungulate was. Imaq gestured to the exposed muscle of the meat. "We odlik. Cut for storing," the huntress explained, waving her snout over the sheep's neck -- at the place where it met the ewe's shoulder, as if her muzzle were a blade cutting through the muscle and bone. 

"Imaq's," the shaman claimed as she turned to point at the half-skin they had already removed. That was hers, for her den. 

"PiKalujak's. Tribe's," here, the she-dog pointed at the meat. This belonged to their people and would go to the caches. 

"Tzila's," the shepherd pointed lastly to the other part of the hide that they would need to remove once they'd finished butchering this half of the corpse. It seemed only fair that her packmate be given her fair share of the creature's pelt since she had come to help Imaq with the arduous task of transporting the meat back to Duskfire Glacier. "Imaq teach how to make soft. For bed. Or for trading," she promised with a dip of her cinnamon-dusted head. 

With that settled, or so she hoped, the wolfdog went to work gnawing and shredding her way through the exposed meat of the ewe's neck. 

With bright eyes like the moon, Tzila observed Imaq with a keen sharpness. She memorized her movements and patterns. Beyond her control, she was drawn in deeper to the intricate level of detail this somewhat carnal art entailed. She proceeded to resume her own progress, mimicking the wolf/dog hybrid. Pausing periodically to be sure her technique was right. As her  appointed mentor had done, she left the hide intact around the legs of the sheep.

After they had parted the skin down the spine of the animal, dividing it into their respected halves, Tzila nosed her portion aside. But first, she looked up to address Imaq. Dipping her chin in a nod, she expressed her agreement. "This meat will go a long way in providing for us all." Before they started the butchering process, the dark woman circled around to join Imaq at her side. Wordless and silent. Her eyes firm but full of meaning. Then, she pushed her nose against a milky white and caramel cheek in a surprising but brief gesture of warmth. "Yes, thank you. I would...like that very much." 

Placing a paw against the body of the ewe again, she stabilized it while Imaq sawed through the neck. She considered the meat thoughtfully. "We should preserve the heart and liver. They are highly prized. Perhaps...letting them dry and harden, we will get more use out of them. We should not waste the bones, either. The marrow is rich in fat and nutrients."

The aureate merle was paused in her efforts by the display of camaraderie, unexpected but welcome all the same. The tapeesa paused long enough to bump a creamy temple against the taller she-wolf's cheek, both of them smudged with splatters of crimson -- a vivid streak of red staining the nightfall of Tzila's cheek  once the shepherd had pulled away. 

"That is good," Imaq agreed with the onyx huntress, nodding absently as her head tilted just so with consideration. "We could lay it out in the sun in front of the Caverns. Siqiqniq will dry it in his beams. No scavengers would come." And then, because the shaman's religion had confused so many in the past, she gestured momentarily to the beaming golden orb watching over them. "And the bones could be stored with the meat, I think." 

When silence lengthened between them once more, Imaq returned to the process of chewing the meat into large hunks, cracking the bones apart only when needed. Once they'd butchered this side of the ewe she would stop to face her shadowed partner again. "Should we go ahead and take turns moving these pieces back to Duskfire or do you want to cut the other side first?"

Sorry for the delay! We can wrap this up here.

"Agreed. The longer the meat is aged, it'll keep well. The Caverns are a favorite haunt of mine. Within them they will keep scavengers at bay, without the odor of fresh blood." All that would be left for the coyotes and ravens once the canids were done here, would be a meager bloodstain on the ground.

The foreign terms that she used, such as the name Siqiqniq, was a curiosity to her. "You will have to teach me some about your language, sometime. It is not one I have heard of before." That could be for another day. Nodding silently, Tzila hopped over back to her claimed side of the carcass. "I will get to work here." She gestured. "Once you sever a piece you can carry, I will stand guard and carry on." She suggested, un-willing to leave their hard won prize and work open to opportunists. It was a day to take advantage and provide for the pack. She would do just that, letting nothing go to waste.

Imaq nodded in agreement, feeling a measure of approval warm the cavity beneath her breastbone -- it was a task all women should know, the tribal cur believed, how to cure meats and furs for their family and clan. She allowed a small smile of kinship to flit in the scarlet-kissed corvid's direction -- tailless stump giving a small wiggle of a wag even if it had no appendage to express emotion with. 

"Jah," she agreed lightly, thinking of how Iana had also expressed an interest in the ways of her homeland. "Imaq can teach Tzila," she promised, thick accent stumbling over the woman's name somewhat clumsily -- the exotic pronunciation most foreign to the golden northron. 

Differing naturally to the shadow's more dominant nature and take-charge attitude, Imaq gave only a small dip of her freckled crown before she went to work chewing the meat into smaller hunks and pieces that could more easily be transported. When she had managed to get a good grip on the ewe's butchered shoulder, she lifted the heavy cut of meat as best she could -- knowing full well that the muscles of their jaws, neck, and shoulders would likely hurt fiercely once the sheep had been completely moved back to Duskfire. 

Still it was worth it, Imaq determined as she set off with the first piece of meat to be stored -- giving Tzila a little nod of departure as she trotted away towards the glacier. This sheep would help fill their caches and feed their people for some time.