Mount Apikuni silence is the language of gods

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.