Redtail Rise Ugjuk

Sulukinak crossed the scent of Aputuk and one of the yearlings as she journeyed from riverside to forest eaves, to field.

The instinct to chase down a rabbit trail led her towards a cliffside, the earth undulating as she carried north.

There were wolf scents again, wild and rich, and she slowed to take in the scenery, but also to survey for bodies in this expanse.

Being out here in the open was something Sulukinak still disliked despite her training. She presumed she could find the source of the wolf scent readily enough - the next part, garnering support, would be the real trial.

He kept to the fringes, looking often in the direction @Redd and @Ruckus had gone. Cambria wanted to go after them, though as the days waxed and waned, he knew it would be difficult to track them. A melancholy air settled on his young shoulders as he continued his routine patrols. He didn’t mean to avoid the rest of the pack, though he soon realized he hadn’t spoken to anyone in days.

Right about the time this realization struck him, his two-toned eyes were drawn to a figure moving in the distance. Cambria pointed his pale snout in that direction, then pivoted the rest of his body when he deduced the figure was making an approach. By sight and scent, he identified her as a she-wolf around his own age, perhaps a little older. Her coloration reminded him a bit of @Mulherin.

But whatever tenderness this resemblance evoked, he stowed it as he stiffened his neck and tail. Cambria loped to intercept the stranger, feeling distinctly protective of the territory he helped claim. His chest rumbled with a warning growl, though it didn’t quite escape his mouth.

You’re approaching Redtail Rise, he said, his sharp gaze demanding the answers to questions he didn’t bother voicing: Who are you? Why are you here? What do you want?

a stranger drifts close to the rise.

mulherin licks the blood from his whiskers, quickly finishing his meal before setting out to find them.

he eventually finds two figures—one dark, one white.

the redtail approaches with tail held high. as he nears, he recognizes one of the two—it is cambria.

he flanks the blod, questioning the foreigner with a demeaning chuff.

One wolf, then two; they watched her and she appraised them from a distance.

The younger approached and carried themselves as a man might. Sulukinak recognized something predatory in the vexation that he displayed, from his posture to his tone. He reminded her of Nunakiaq.

The second wolf was further away and while they came to flank the first, they did not speak.

Sulukinak felt the familiar prickling of her nape. I look for help, she explained — I live by the river, there; my uncle is there too, and I don't know how to help him. Her motion east, towards the glacier and the far-off mountains.

A pause, considering the look of these two — and considering if she should simply run. As the pause grows long she calls out again, If you can help, I can trade. I am a caribou hunter.

It felt wrong to say aloud, almost boastful, despite her training having concluded.

He caught a faint whiff of blood and turned to see Mulherin approaching, his posture declaring his dominance. Cambria let his tail drop slightly, though his legs and neck remained stiff. When his comrade rumbled, he returned his full attention to the loiterer.

The woman said she needed help. Rather, her uncle needed help. She didn’t know how to help him, yet she entreated the Redtails. Cambria’s two-toned eyes narrowed into a squint. What ailed her uncle? Why did he need their help? The Blod scoffed at the idea of needing an outsider to bring them meat, a little surprised by his own indignation on behalf of the rise.

But Mulherin was his superior. What did he make of her request? His gaze drifted coolly to his cohort’s face, then back to the she-wolf, waiting for the leader to speak.

he and cambria stand side to side, a united front.

but soon he realizes there is no threat here. the female is dark and lean, she carries herself without hostility.

the tension dispels and his posture becomes more neutral.

and finally he finds that her request is for help.

his brow furrows as he tries to put the puzzle pieces together. an issue that affected the river may also impact the rise, it is his duty to know the details. 

his investigation starts,

what happened to him?

one appeared dubious, the other thoughtful.

finally the older of the pair, the one who carried themselves as leader, spoke. the question wasn't a strange one and sulukinak came prepared.

fighting. he went to the river and called for their leader, but they had none. now they bow to him.

sulukinak did not want to give the impression that her uncle was weak, or that the people of the river were hurt to the point of being helpless; the last thing she wanted during this hunt for medicine was to give the wrong impression, leading to strangers raiding the place as cen had.

she watched both wolves, cautious, respectful.

would you help? i can trade other things — time, work; ask and i give.

Mulherin seemed prepared to entertain the woman’s request, pending some further investigation. If this surprised Cambria, he didn’t show it. He only shifted his weight and kept his eyes on the she-wolf, his ears tuned to the sound of his superior’s voice, then hers.

He tensed as the story unfolded. The yearling quickly deduced that a pack must reside at this unnamed river. Her uncle had come calling for leadership, only none had come. So he’d assumed it, presumably by force. Wasn’t there a word for that? Cambria couldn’t recall it now, though the fighting surely meant it hadn’t been a peaceful transition of power.

He glanced at the side of Mulherin’s face, remembering his own recent battle with Ulfhedinn. It seemed that climbing the hierarchy required physical prowess and a certain amount of fighting, even among family. Cambria mulled this, wondering just how willingly these wolves bowed to the stranger’s uncle. It sounded like the man had brought his wounds upon himself.

Still the Blod remained mum, tension tightening the muscles of his back as he waited to see what Mulherin would say next.

the wheels were turning now, he understood what had happened.

while he had never known the river pack, he recalled the time a healer had been brought from there for moon runner during the peak of her illness. 

whatever fate had befell the pack, the stranger's uncle led them now, he'd seized it.

his dark tail lashes, offput by the thought. luckily for them, the rise did not find itself without leaders. yet it was not in a position to make enemies.

he decides the most strategic move would be neutrality. 

though, he finds interest in trading, as he'd done so once before. the odds were in his favor for a good deal.

what is it that you want? then, i'll name my price.

one remained silent, guarding and watching, and that made her think they themselves were young and learning.

the other, the speaker, appeared level-headed and open to discussion. she was thankful for that, at least.

we have no healing. none that know it, none that know what grows here. she hated to admit to any weakness - but this was necessary. I am seeking a healer, or lessons to take back.

and in exchange, her hard work would be to their benefit. what would this cost?

Mulherin began bartering with the woman. Cambria still didn’t understand why he entertained this stranger, here on the behalf of a—Usurper! he finally recalled the term. But that was the leader’s call. He neither required the Blod’s approval, nor his protection.

Woofing to signal his departure, the yearling ducked his head to the other male, glanced at the she-wolf, then fell back to manning the borders. He would sweep the nearest stretch, keeping an eye on the exchange from a distance, but leaving the new Wealda to his business.

the woman asks for a healer; all he can do is grit his teeth. he offers a meager shake of his head. their situation was not much better, he cloaks the truth in his usual vagueness. it was not her place to press further.

I cannot offer that. he replies, his tone flat, devoid of any particular emotion. cambria leaves his side then, and he turns to watch him go.

at least to bide the woman for her time, he offers a pieve of advice.

you might find luck by the coast.

and a lift of his tail once more, a sign for her to move on. they would be done here.