Mount Apikuni silence is the language of gods

Set for yesterday morning, at the base of the mountain.

There is no concept of time in that moment. The world shakes around her, she bounces, and cries, occasionally rattled a few times to shut her up where she temporarily cries louder until she’s too tired. Her eyelids are heavy and her crying becomes hoarse, but when they finally stop running, she slowly opens her gaze to find the warm sun beating down on her already hot frame.  The coyote places her on the ground and noses her a few times, breathing in her scent—perhaps the reason she’d not been eaten yet, the feverish smell she gives off—and pushes her around until she cries again.

Weakened and quiet, Sao closes her eyes and tucks into herself. If she goes to sleep, maybe the rolling around will stop and she can rest. Maybe she could eat soon, though she’s far too exhausted to move more than a few inches to find the source, but if she could sleep a little longer, the pull her mind has on her body, she will feel a little better. The coyote, however, concerned about the smell and hesitant to devour his meal, remains protective of his catch a little while longer if only to figure out the extent of sickness.

It had been his responsibility to watch over the new family, and yet, they'd escaped. In the night, perhaps, or maybe at some other point in time; he wasn't sure, in all honestly, he only knew that they had all departed from the woods. Burke, Malice, their children—gone, almost as if they'd never been there at all. Not only was he a guardian of the borders, but he'd been told specifically that he'd needed to watch over the family. Their departure effected the entire pack, he knew, but he felt as if he'd been hit especially hard after realizing they'd gone away. Again, he'd failed in his mission, disappointing perhaps more than he'd assumed. The Inuit did not give up, though. Rather, he'd set out after them, wishing to track the family down and drag them back, even if it were to cost him his life in the end.

Kove, it seemed, was the unlucky sort, though. The scent trail eventually ended, leaving him to proceed blindly, but even still he did not turn back. Over the mountains he'd gone after having crossed the waterway, searching for any signs that might indicate that the family had passed through there—but never had he found even a trace of them. He'd made his way over the flatter terrains after having scaled the rough outcroppings of the mountains, stopping to rest and eat whenever he could. It was nearly every five minutes that he wondered if he was even heading in the correct direction, as he'd never caught wind of any other wolves. The family had simply vanished, taking with them his worth, and leaving him as a failure to the Brotherhood.

Ready to turn around and head back home, his pace had eased into a steady trot, seeking out a meal for the road. The scent that he'd discovered, though, was not what he'd been expecting to find—the dusty, dirty stench of a coyote, followed by a sickly, milky scent that he'd often related to children. With the illness having been too overpowering, he'd assumed it to be a coyote and its child out for a bite to eat, and so he'd continued onward downwind of the pair. Perhaps if he were to return with some food, his punishment would not be so severe, and so the man stalked towards the lesser canines. As he'd readied himself to spring forward, his attention was drawn to the smaller of the figures, and that was when all of the pieces seemed to fall into place. The creature was too large to belong to a coyote, which meant that it had been taken away from, perhaps, a far away place in order to become a meal. He'd been reminded of his own children, then, of a time back when they were so small that they'd been incapable of fending for themselves. It was those thoughts that had caused him to spring into action, pale body surging forward as he'd thrown himself towards the 'yote, jaws wide.

The flesh of his prey was quickly torn through by his incisors, every ounce of anger he'd felt being redirected from its true source and focused on the kidnapper. His intentions were no longer to eat it, as was shown by the excess force used to tear at it until it could breathe no longer. The unnamed specimen was deserving of the fate that it'd met, Kove believed, and so he'd spat from his mouth any remainders of the animal's flesh. Thereafter, his attention was turned to the child, tongue darting out to lick over his muzzle before he'd approached her. The first thing he did, of course, was nudge the whelp, wondering if she was injured, as well as if he might be able to get her to uncoil. About her, he knew nothing, but he did know that he could not just leave her there to waste away into nothingness.

Tucked into herself, Sao flinches as the ground thunder beneath her and the gist of wind above her causes her to twitch. Afraid, tired, she's unable to open her eyes to see above her. The shrieking yips do little to ease her, the screaming going on for a few seconds before ending. It didn't sound like those she spent most of her time around, but far too shaken to figure it out keeps her stuck within herself.

Before she knows it, she's being judged by a wet, warm nose. Hot breath coats her and she whimpers to the added heat and, for a second, only tightens herself inward. Eventually, she unravels and slowly sets herself eternal to look upward. The sight of a white, blood stained muzzle causes her to squeak, but weak, fever worn legs can't carry her very far to get away.

The girl had not eased herself as quickly as he'd hoped she would, but had, eventually, nevertheless. It was her squeak that had drawn him into looking closer, scanning the parts of her that were currently visible as he'd searched for wounds—reminders that she'd been with a coyote only moments prior, reminders that she could have ended up as a meal. Though there was nothing too prominent, from what he could see, or at least not anything that made him feel overly concerned towards her physical being. Still, though, the scent she carried was bothersome enough, his instincts insisting he depart immediately, but his better self forcing him to stay put. In her, he could already see the daughters that he'd lost so long ago, and so his first thought was to solve whatever issue she was having. Oblivious, though, did he remain to his current appearance.

Kove lowered himself down onto his stomach, creeping closer, still, in what he believed to be a nonthreatening way. "Don't be scared, the coyote can't get you anymore," he'd said, caring not if he could be understood. His words were followed by another nudge of sorts, but the closer he got, the more warmth he could feel rolling off of her small form in waves. Curious, he'd directed his attention towards her paws, moving forward once more so that he could squeeze his nose beneath the one and press it against her metacarpal pad. They seemed especially heated, alerting him to the fact that something most definitely wasn't right. Standing, the Inuit stationed himself over her, plucking her from the ground by the scruff and proceeding to then move onward in search of a water source. He had not spoken, nor asked permission prior, for he'd doubted that she'd be able to properly answer him even if he had.

From there he'd departed, leaving behind the mangled corpse of the coyote as the child was carried along in his maw. His next stop did not happen until he'd successfully located a small stream of water, its width minimal and the area at which he'd entered being shallow enough to just barely reach up around his ankles. There, he'd slowly lowered the girl down into it, careful not to drop or rush her entry. His grip had, of course, tightened as a precaution, for her history with water—if there was any—was not something he had any knowledge on.

No kidnapping going on here, only saving.

Tense, scared, the little girl is overwhelmed by the sudden emotions. Emotions she shouldn’t know at such a young age. Sao is unable to properly process them for the better, so even as Kove settles down onto the ground and creeps forward slowly, she still retreats. His words rumble her form, and nose brings another wash of hot air that’s once more uncomfortable. She squeaks, whimpers, and when his cool nose touches her paw, she subconsciously pushes at it—not to get away, but to welcome the contrast in temperature.

Before she realizes it, she’s swept up again. Wincing, teeth against tender flesh already damaged by the coyote, Sao cries in protest. The hold eventually takes over and she falls limp, legs curling into her body to keep her center of gravity closer to the male. Sao feels the cold of the water touch her tail, and then her feet, followed by a little more. Despite the sleep hold he has against her scruff, flails her legs and stretches out in protest, crying as loudly as she can manage. The cooling factor takes a few seconds to settle and for a few seconds, her screeching is quietened.

The first several steps had been iffy, his pace slow and careful until the girl had gone limp in his grasp. From there, the waters were far smoother, allowing for him to move briskly enough without making her uncomfortable until the water had been reached. Yet, once there, a whole new issue had decided to arise. She'd started to flail about, making him tighten his grip once more to counteract her wild movements. That, when combined with her crying, made him visibly wince out of pity for the girl. He wished only to save her, to give her a life that was worth living rather than allowing her to die out there alone, but she'd managed to make him feel already as if he'd hurt her in some way. Thus, his grip was loosened a little bit, hoping that it might help to lessen her crying—and, for a moment, he almost thought that it had.

The thought lived for a short period of time, however, as he'd realized that it was actually the water that had soothed her. Having quieted her down, Kove felt as if he'd accomplished something. Thanks to the positive results, he'd come up with an even better idea, and had proceeded to sit down with his forepaws in the water. Thereafter, he'd lowered her further until she'd touched the earth underneath, and had then released her after positioning her head against one of his paws to keep it propped up. If a small amount of water helped, then surely letting her just soak there would be even better, right?

Her hazy eyes widen, still blue, still grey, as more of her is settled into the water. There is support but the water laps at her gently, causing her to wobble, and while the larger wolf is able to keep her steady for a moment she feels insecure. The constant threat of her toppling over, despite the cooling effects, force a cry from her tiny frame. Who knew something so small could make so much noise, even smothered by water? 

Sao gets a mouthful from her underwater flailing, sputtering and—very suddenly—shivering. What had once been cooling and calming now took over and despite her fever, sends a whole new wave of confusion.

Well, that hadn't gone as planned.

What had started out as something capable of soothing her had quickly morphed into the source of her distress. The first cry, though having made him highly attentive of her, had not been enough to encourage him to take action. The flailing, however, had led to him leaning forward and picking her back up, relocating her to dry land. There, he'd placed her on the ground and then laid down himself, taking notice to her shivering and pulling her closer to his chest because of it. Never had he needed to do anything similar with his own children, but somehow it just felt right, and so he did not stop himself or think too far into it. Although, as he'd started to dry her, he was reminded of the past for but a moment. As his tongue was dragged over her petite physique, working to both try and attempt to sooth her, he'd recalled a time in which he'd done something similar to Desna. That was something of the past, and so he'd pushed it from his mind soon after, wishing to focus solely on this new child of his.

As his motions had slowed, he'd craned is neck to look upon her better, searching for any spots along her topside that he might have missed. "Maybe sleep is all you need, not the water..." he'd muttered, speaking to himself despite his gaze being glued to her. "And a name, too. You'll need one of those before I take you home." That could be done once he'd successfully managed to calm her down. For the time being he simply watched her, wondering what all she might need while keeping her close to him, as well as attempting to guess her age. Whether or not she could eat meat yet would have to be tested once he had something to offer up, but for the time being, he was content with the hope that she could, if only so he wouldn't have to watch her die.

The water is gone from around her and she suddenly feels a lot heavier than she remembers. It doesn’t last long, fortunately, and instead she’s tucked between the other’s legs. Eyes pinched tight, his thick fur resting against her own and even though she’s wet and cold, she feels the embrace and allows the caresses she’s offered. His tongue washes over her, enough to soothe with an occasional squeak or whimper, until eventually she falls asleep.

Even after the child had fallen asleep, he'd continued to lick over her until the majority of the excess water had been removed from her coat. Thereafter, he'd rested with her for a while longer, sharing with her his warmth and giving her furs an opportunity to dry. Only when he'd deemed enough of water to have gone from her small frame had the man stood up, picking her up once he'd stretched out his legs and then pressing forward with the notion of completing their journey secured tightly within his mind.