Blackfoot Forest Iktsuarpok

He left the valley when it was still dark, his breath pulled from him in thin veins of mist that dissipated within moments; it was too cold to sleep comfortably, and he had not managed to find anything to eat during his last attempt, leaving him empty and wanting. The desire to see his family was too strong now: a sense that he was missing something which spanned beyond his home-sickness or need for his family, rooted in his growing desperation. 

The darkness gradually greyed as it lifted, with the sky streaking in shades of muted gold at first. He watched the rising sun until the vagaries of early warmth touched upon his coat, and then picked up speed, marching due west of the valley which had been his home the past month. He knew the shape of the mountains - Mesa could probably find his way home if he could get a little closer, he thought. Maybe he would find a game trail replete with wolf-scent and follow that? His plans were as vague as the mist.

Eventually the sun was high in the sky and he had to duck away from the light, feeling the sting in his eyes. He crept to where the trees loomed upon a hillside and wove between the gaps there for a bit. The shadows of the forest were intensely cold compared to the patches of light he crossed; feeling more defeated than anything, he paused along the edge of the Blackfoot Forest for a rest. A part of Mesa wished for the comfort of the shadows - but he could not tolerate the chill there, the hopelessness beneath it - and so he basked in the sun and soon felt the warmth spreading across his every inch.

assuming they've met per diaspora's new member policy but i can edit if need be!

Hunger gnaws at her, and the valley calls. Diaspora remains feeble, even with the strength added by their new members, by herself and her brother. The land is dying, and the wolves with it. It is tempting to flee, but she has pledged herself, and she takes it very seriously.
So instead, she wanders, @Lieke perched on her shoulders and dozing. She doesn't anticipate any more luck than the rest of the pack, or she might have left her companion at home. She only means to scout, though, and perhaps bring home news. Maybe good news. It is this desperation that makes her attentive, enough to catch the faintly familiar wolf-scent well before she's anywhere near the source. The scent reminds her of Diaspora, so she trails it instinctively. Hello? She calls when she spots the young wolf sprawled past the forest's edge, ducking her head slightly to get a better view of him. Her approach halts several yards from where he lays, and she waits for a response, tail swaying amiably behind her.

That is fine! :)

He is laying in the sun, sprawled and useless, when the air starts to feel a little different. Heavy, maybe one could call it. The familiar aroma of the mountains enters his nose and he lifts his snout with a startled look. His first thought is of his mother, naturally, and he scrambles to his paws just as the stranger comes drifting through the tree line. There is another scent there though - one like prey - and the boy's need for sustenance outweighs his personal desire to be reunited with his family. He scrambles towards the scents just as the stranger emerges, not hearing them as they speak.

His eyes are soon caught upon the golden-furred creature draping the wolf's neck; there isn't time for him to consider the strangeness of the sight of such a thing, whether it is alive and poised there or dead and ornamental, it smells healthier than anything he's hunted for himself - and Mesa launches himself towards the stranger and their little animal friend, loosing a desperate snarl as he vies to grab for the mustelid.

A vibration from beneath her pulled the weasel from her nap, and she woke with quiet grumble of irritation. Her tiny eyes blinked a few times before a snarl made them widen. There were seconds between her realization of the predator lunging for where she was perched atop her companion's shoulders and the surge of adrenaline that forced her to her feet. She leaped from Antha and scurried quickly towards the nearest tree, so terrified of becoming this asshole's meal that she practically flew from the ground up towards the trunk. She slipped down the tree a little in her frantic attempt to climb to safety but managed to find her bearings and scramble up and hide inside the needles of the fir tree. She released a furious string of squeaks at whomever was down below, but she didn't dare risk moving from her safe spot to check things out, and it would be a while before she could be coaxed down.

skip her from now on <3

For a moment, hope fills her as she recognizes the boy and considers the possibility of bringing back the Kapitän's child. She starts to speak again, searching for the right words to persuade him to come with her — but then she realizes he's lunging for her, and her voice catches in her throat. No, not for her — for Lieke. She swallows the urge to meet the snarl with her own, moving to meet him and turning her body to use it as both shield and weapon; basically aiming to slam her ass into him and hoping it will stop the attack. Wait, She manages, already a little breathless from her own exertion. She can hear Lieke fleeing behind her, and she hopes the weasel has the sense to find a tall tree or a deep burrow to hide in. Whether his teeth are upon her or not, she forces herself to continue, throwing out words he might know in hopes of stopping him: You're — Takiyok's, right? Diaspora?

The lithe little creature heads for the trees and Mesa is hot on its little heels, caught up for a moment by the struggle of the wolf upon which it is perched, and giving them a disdainful look as if to say, what are you doing, help me! But as he extricates himself from the tangle of their struggling bodies and lunges for the trunk of a tree, he spies the sinuous little form of the prey animal as it coils in a frenzy higher than he can reach. His heart is racing and his eyes are wide, hungry — he lifts himself up on his hinds and paws at the trunk, trying to reach higher, but knows he's lost this little spasm of a hunt.

Mesa's breath is gushing from him as he relents from the attack; aligning himself with the dirt again, he flashes a dangerous, primal look upon the stranger — faltering only slightly when they mention his mother.

Takiyok's, Stigmata's. He corrects her immediately, his voice lancing at her. He opens his mouth to say something else (perhaps to ask why is there prey around your neck, or why haven't you eaten it yet?) when the full realization clicks in his head and the tension slips from his shoulders. There was.. There was an accident. The herd, I... I ran, all the oomph left him there as he admitted to his weakness, his cowardice. The stupidity of venturing away from the group during the catastrophe and leading to the death of Kazimir, whose name he could not speak aloud. You -- you are with the pack? He has probably seen her around before but his recent trauma has emptied his mind of such moments.