Verdant Basin rectifier

aw, but attn: @Kavrak — backdated a wee bit, prior to the boys own arrival here since they're meant to be ranging ahead. smol post to get the ball rolling! VIBES 

Kuasak had stolen ahead with Kavrak with the consent of @Anuniaq to see what lay ahead. @Kaertok and he both knew what came next—the Wilds they had spoken of, the Wilds they sought. Mutely they pressed past the flatlands, and rolling hills lay ahead of them. Panting from the oppressive Summer heat, the large she-wolf paused to see if her leaner (but by no means small) sister was still near. They had many miles to go, she knew, but in the future of their journey they would again find the two brothers whose mission they sought to aid. Kavrak and she both had itched to get ahead; the world here was so different than the one they had left behind. If it were any more beautiful, Kuasak would not be the one to know it—she was tactical only in her appreciation of what assistance a land could offer one in a fight. Here, upon these landscapes, she and Kavrak had the most to learn. Her nostrils flared, and though the sky was utterly clear Kuasak knew a rainstorm would soon be upon them. This would not deter she or her sister, who had traveled in far worse. In fact, Kuasak looked forward to it; the scents would become stronger, and the rains that came would cool them as well as their surroundings. 

It was hot. If ever Kavrak might have raised her voice in a complaint, it would have been now, but that was just a waste of words. While more loquacious than her sibling and most of Tartok, the huntress still said little more than was necessary. Indeed, she walked half a wolf's length behind her sister and for many miles, they said nothing at all. They had no need of idle conversation to pass the time. They had a mission and were more concerned with getting to it than chatting.

Kavrak's eyes were for the terrain. They prowled over sloped grasslands now, with the sun beating down on their backs. In the distance on all sides there were trees and mountains. The entire valley was well fortified, but she wasn't thinking of battle at the moment. Kavrak yearned to direct their course to the highest of the peaks, where the two northerners might find a reprieve from the stifling heat, but Kuasak was eldest, and Kuasak held the reins of their caravan. Sometimes, Kavrak would nip and jostle for authority. Sometimes she would win. Most of the time she deferred to her sibling.

She glanced sidelong at the paler wolf now, licking her chops as if to ask, and now? They'd left the brothers behind. The brothers knew where they were going. Kuasak and Kavrak had ranged ahead with a thirst for seeing what was ahead, but the younger sister didn't know where they were going. Did Kuasak?

Although they had ranged forward, they did so at a slow-moving pace. The brothers were meant to catch up to them (sooner rather than later), though Kuasak would have she and her sister know the lands they would come to take over, and the wolves that roamed these lands. What she wanted to find was nothing specific—what she had already found was, for the most part, what she already knew. There was no reprieve for the heat but nighttime and cool streams. Kuasak desired to climb to great heights as much as Kavrak, but Kuasak understood this would do them no good for their present mission: learn. 

Understanding her sisters pointed gesture, Kuasak grunted and pressed her nose to the earth. The wolves that had been here came and went, but none were here now but for the two of them. Kuasak trotted forward, moving to climb a hill—nothing, in comparison to the challenging mountains they had ranged—and spotted a massive source of water. One ear shifted backward to listen for the sound of her sister, but both suddenly pivoted forward as she caught sight of a herd at the waters. Her tail lashed behind her as she observed, and then she began to move in their direction, chuffing lowly to her sister. Kuasak knew she could not hunt them, but she did thirst for the same waters they drank from. A stag lifted his head to watch but, sensing her intent, seemed otherwise unbothered.

The darker of the pair followed suit and dropped her head to sniff at the earth. Many scents. None significant. She snorted to clear the dust from her nostrils and ranged ahead, but it was Kuasak who took a more direct route up a hill. When her sister's ears pressed forward, Kavrak rumbled quietly and came to stand at her shoulder.

The sight of the herd was enough to make the huntress' tail wave. She was an Anneriwok of Tartok and, as such, was trained from birth to be a Warrior. However, her true passion was hunting. The rush of blood through her system as she pounded across the tundra in pursuit of caribou. The sharp taste of blood on her tongue. The rip and tear of animal muscle beneath the points of her teeth. If they had a third she would had pushed ahead and began a hunt, but with only the two of them and energy to conserve, there was no point.

She clacked her jaws together eagerly as they descended, for although there was to be no hunt, there was nothing stopping Kavrak from toying with the herd a little by snapping at their hocks, which she fully intended to do as she surged forward.

Kuasak's movements were slow and measured, whereas Kavrak's were swift. Sensing Kavrak's own drive, here, Kuasak altered her course. It could not hurt to test and toy with the prey for a short time. When Anuniaq and Kaertok came, the two Anneriwok would know of a herd... and its potential weaknesses. Her long-legged strides became rigid as she increased her pace. The stag was far more alert now, and even from this distance the white of its eyes could be seen as it looked for more. It was older, and as Kuasak moved in a loose circle to complement the movements of her sister she noted scars upon its haunch. The male was no stranger to being ambushed... but it had survived them thus far. Kuasak knew it would live today, too—but it would never survive the hunters of Tartok. Certainly not if the two sisters had anything to say about it. They had hunted and taken down fiercer quarry than this... but never alone. They had seen musk ox and preyed on their young, their sick, their old. 

But that did not mean they would ever underestimate the prey they came against here and now. It would not do. 

The herd began to move away, their movements slow and uncertain but cautious. Kuasak threw herself into a slow sprint, moving to fiendishly snap at the nearest doe to spur the entirety of the herd into a frenzy.

As they drew closer to the herd, Kavrak noted their diminutive size compared with the creatures of the north. Even the reindeer there outstripped these cousins, and their branch feasted often on the largest animals the tundra had to offer them. Yet Kavrak was of a like mind as her sister: these were not to be underestimated. Even the tiny fleet doe could cause serious harm to a wolf who thought too much of their own abilities. Kavrak was no such wolf.

She followed her sister's lead as Kuasak took her hint and headed into the midst of the herd, which began to amble away as though unsure whether to fear the wolves or not. Kavrak's lips parted into a silent grimace as she singled out a young female and snapped at its hindquarters, though her movements were impish and playful rather than determined. Her tail waved in a high arc as she sped among them, her steps quick and fluid as she shifted to cow an even younger male who hadn't even sprouted his first antlers with her gnashing teeth.

The sound that came from her throat then was almost like a laugh, a keening whumpf of air akin to a bark, but one that expressed her joy at this simple game. Kavrak was the most playful of all the wolves she knew. She was serious when it counted, and that was most of the time, but she had a humour to her that was uncommon among the soldiers of Tartok. Though it came not in spoken word, it was very much a part of her. More than once had a wolf underestimated Kavrak's prowess as a result of her joyous nature.

More than once had a wolf nearly died for that mistake.

The duo moved, singling out many a member of their herd. As Kavrak harassed a younger member of the herd, a sickly scent captured her attentions and Kuasak followed this thread. The scent was vague and not ov. erpowering—a new illness, a fresh one. Her keen nose took heavy droughts as her tongue lolled, weaving through the crowd and alerting her sister with her abrupt change in direction, a lifted head and searching eyes for the blackened blur that was Kavrak. Even now they would not hunt this thing, but the scent was important to recognize and memorize. They had not eaten a large meal in some moons... a sick herd member would be an easier target than any other.

When Kuasak found it, there was no questioning it despite its alertness. It's eyes were glassier than the others and, if one payed close enough attention, its movements were imperceptibly off. When Kuasak moved a bit too close, however, it moved to strike out—and Kuasak side-stepped, narrowly missing its blow. It was still healthy enough to fight, which meant even still she and her sister would likely not be able to take it down this day. But Kuasak, annoyed by its retaliation, moved to snap fiendishly at its rear before retreating, keen now on harassing it some.

The smell had been masked by the stillness of the herd before, but now that they were on the move, Kavrak picked up on the sweet smell of illness. She lifted her head and scented the air, veering away from the young male toward the herd's center. The sick animal remained near to the heart of the herd, where it might not be as easily detected. Given enough time and enough running, the herd would outpace an ill animal, but desperation drove them to try to mask their weakness. Unfortunately for this one, the sisters simultaneously picked up on it and Kuasak singled it out.

The doe kicked out at Kuasak and Kavrak instinctively flinched, but threw her lean weight forward in a full gallop. While Kuasak fell back to avoid the kick, the black-haired yearling rushed in and gnashed her teeth at the sick animal's flanks. She could smell its panic and its sickness, blended together in a sharp and acrid smell that made her mouth water. This one was still too strong for the pair of them though, so she ducked away, running alongside it only to spend a little more time wearing it down.

This one would die by their teeth once the boys caught up to them, that was a promise.

Their prey, namely the larger ones, had learned well how to communicate with their predators. The show they put on could last for many hours. Their strut, their bugle, said: I am healthy; I will be too difficult to take down; I am strong, and to hunt me would take more energy than you can spare—you will not fell me. They were good at their craft, but the endurance of wolves while they patiently weeded out what the truth was could often outmatch the performers. There were times this did not occur. But those of Tartok were not known for giving up. Not only this, but the conditions they survived rarely would allow it. Tartok was fortunate in the numbers they carried, but it also always meant more mouths to feed. The bison or the muskox could not always be bested, but the caribou frequently could—though of course, their favored fare were the larger beasts. It explained their ability to become so large themselves. They were not stupid hunters, however. While there were many a thick wolf within Tartok, in matters of the hunt and matters of the wolf they were the wisest of all. 

Her own thoughts mirrored Kavrak's. This one was not long for the world. Kuasak snapped at it, and retreated—it spun to face her, inviting Kavrak in for a moment as it heeded Kuasak wholly. But Kuasak, this time, was two steps ahead of it; her large size did not permit her the swiftness of leaner wolves, and she knew to think ahead now. Her ears flicked as she listened for her sister, her eyes upon their future victim, cold and calculating.

The smokey black Anneriwork surged forth in the space left by Kuasak as the doe turned toward her sister, and she nipped its hock, drawing its attention back toward herself with a sharp pinch of teeth. The lithe hunter sprang away and slowed her pace, allowing the doe to get ahead and return to its herd. Her steps faltered into she was trotting, no longer spending energy on the chase, but now she knew its right hind leg bore the mark of her teeth, and it would be weaker for it.

A deep sound issued from her throat in an effort to call her sister back to her. They had better things to do now. Kavrak would return to their scouting.