Bitterroot Valley she had been forced into prudence in her youth,
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Trade 
AW, deerstalker #3 (prey: white-tailed deer, successful @Wintersbane @Iana @Tzila @Rye @Lane @Zephyr)

The northeastern stretches of the Taiga's mossy steppes was a bit far for a pack hunt but not extremely so and Imaq hoped to avoid overhunting in any of the territories close to the Glacier. Even if their pack was small as of yet, that didn't mean they could be careless with their resources. Besides, there was always a chance that the lands she had yet to explore north of the Glacier would prove to be abundant in prey, lush and bountiful to support the ecosystems thriving there.

Such would prove to be the case, at least for Bitterroot Valley, which was scruffy with low scrub bushes and blooming with colorful wildflowers where the ground was not furrowed by worn game trails and bison wallows. Scents were chaotic, overlapping, almost riotous as the she-dog tried to dissect and decipher them.

It was as she was cresting a low rise that she spotted the herd of deer in the distance though she was too far away to make out what kind as of yet. Seelie was just proud of herself for learning recently that there was more than one kind of deer that inhabited Teekon.

Lowering into a crouch, the shaman backed away before loping west -- back in the direction of the Glacier. Once far enough that she wouldn't scare off the deer, the piebald stopped to tip back her gilded diadem and howl for her packmates.  
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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hope it's okay if i join :D

the valley behind the bypass was filled with a profusion of flora and fauna. mahler had seen most of it before, but had remained in awe of spring, billowing toward summer. 
this was where he had suggested wintersbane might lead them for a hunt, but as the months wore on, he suspected his former brother might have become more concerned with matters at heart.
a blink as an unfamiliar howl rose, and mahler loped to meet it, charcoal ears cupping curiously toward the tiny variegated wolf-creature who had made the sound. deer, in the distance.
"might i join you, frau?" mahler called softly, a sway of his plume to accompany it.
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of course! i've been dying for a mahler thread! sorry for the wait on this

Imaq tensed as the dark figure crested the horizon, recognizing his scent as male as the balmy spring breeze carried it to her -- his cologne that of loam and forests, creekwater, where hers was arctic air and glacier stream. She relaxed only as the scarred guardian ambled closer, his gait loose and welcoming of her presence, head tipping back so that aquamarine might meet pallid amethyst. Tuliped auds lifted to catch the gentle rain of his words, intrigued by his accent -- which was a distant cousin to her own.

"Jah," the she-dog lilted in agreement, offering him a smile of gratitude. She continued to be surprised by the inhabitants of these lands -- there were more here that were open to her mixed heritage than she would have thought. "Imaq," the Waterwitch introduced herself, "of Duskfire Glacier."
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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<3 no worries whatsoever!

assured, invited, he came closer to take up a watchful position alongside this imaq. "i am mahler, of rivenvood. ve are your ally." unsure of what else wintersbane had said on their merit, if anything, he chose not to wax about his position there and instead set his lavender gaze upon the herd.
"are you here to observe them or to hunt?" the gargoyle inquired lowly, happy to be of whatever assistance the wolfdog would want. he did not stare at her mottled self, only quietly marvelled at the variance of creatures in the world.
what sort of woman was imaq? a small woman, with a voice accented against his own. he would learn of her slowly.
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The shepherd's cracked gaze sparked with intrigue at Mahler's words, not having yet met any of the Glacier's allies. She committed the silvering man's scent to her memory as she breathed it in again, thinking she might recognize it if she ever went to visit the 'wood wolves for any reason. "Piujuk katimak ipvit," the halfbreed lilted in response, finding that she did not know the words in his tongue and her own came easily in his presence -- even if Seelie knew he likely wouldn't understand. 

"Imaq is 'woman-who-hunts.'" she told him by way of answer, grinning impishly. "In Nunaat, Imaq hunt for seal at aglos." Her aquamarines flickered briefly back towards the direction she had come to call home. "Imaq hunt for Glacier now -- Rivenwood too." Her gilded crown dipped with the last words, both a reference to the possible hunt they were about to take part in and an offer for the future.

Piujuk katimak ipvit: 'Good meeting you.'
aglos: 'seal holes in the ice.'
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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mahler had not heard the syllables before that she spoke. he felt, surely, that he might have heard something from takiyok, at one time, but did not accurately recall it. it hurt him to think of her, to know he had hurt her again and again and then, irreparably at the end. his was a poisonous sort of interaction, and in retrospect, perhaps she had been correct to leave with taikon.
she had been a seal-hunter? and a woman who hunted, which was of interest. mahler translated as deftly as he was able, nodding in amused agreeability. "vell then. allow me to help you, imaq." he was eager to know what sort of hunters duskfire possessed, knowing them also to be in keeping of good medics.
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Imaq smiled as easily as she had spoken with the lilac-eyed he-wolf, finding his company amiable and enjoyable. Cracked aquamarines, struck through with neptunian sapphire, drifted over the Graf’s inky shoulder to the horizon that would lead her back to Duskfire. 

“Just Imaq and Mahler,” the isabella merle surmised in her jilted speech before her gaze returned to her companion. “Mahler think they hunt good, just two?” It was embarrassing that she lacked the capability to express more complex thoughts but she was improving and tried to take heart in this fact. Besides, Mahler seemed a patient and kind sort — even if they hadn’t known each other long. Imaq didn’t think her lack of proper syntax and grammar would change his opinion of her.
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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the gargoyle nodded. "you are fast, i am ... not so fast. but heavy." plume swished once. mahler would have had no place with myopic commentary upon imaq's way of speaking; he himself could not pronounce the very name of wylla without his accent heavy upon it!
"do you see vone out there that might do for us?" he asked, though his own lilac eyes flicked over the distant milling bodies. she was younger, and while his eyesight had not yet abated, he knew he could not ope to see as clearly as one with fewer years.
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Imaq nodded along with Mahler, offering a small but wry grin at his commentary. At his question, the Aussie turned and squinted at the distant brown blips of the herd as they flickered subtly with small movements. "Jah, Imaq see one. It's leg," she explained as best she could when she turned back to the silvered shadow, giving a tiny shake of her head to signify its leg was lame. A hobbled ankle, she'd thought when she'd first seen it.

"Imaq show Mahler," she both suggested and promised as she trotted back towards the herd, moving in a southeastern direction so as to loop around and come upon the grazers downwind, hopefully avoiding spooking them. Her tuliped auds gave a slight flicker as she left, as if straining to make sure that the Rivenwood wolf followed. 
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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the leg. 
so it was not to be a long dash. the hunter was then more confident in his abilities, and would rely upon imaq's more swift build. mahler followed at once, setting a silent jaunt at the duskfire's flank.
the carpeted taiga rolled beneath their paws, and whenever imaq had stilled herself, mahler too followed suit, passing lavender gaze to follow her own.
something to be said for the quiet way that wolves fit together when hunting; age nor name nor sex nor locale mattered, only the shared hunger between fanged mouths.
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When they had stopped, Imaq's tropical optics scanned the mass of grazing bodies -- landing on the hobbled deer she'd mentioned to Mahler earlier. Her freckled diadem swung loosely to gesture in its direction, pointing it out to the argent he-wolf. "There," she breathed, reluctant to disturb the creatures. She didn't want to mess this hunt up; if they were successful, it would mean valuable resources for both the Glacier and Rivenwood, not to mention it would strengthen their alliance with the the other pack.
"Imaq could sneak, chase. Bring to Mahler, Imaq help Mahler take deer?" she suggested, glancing towards the Graf as she spoke, making a few small gestures with her spotted muzzle as if to indicate that she would circle around and startle the deer. From there, she would do her best to herd the injured ewe towards her companion without sending too many others towards him and risk Mahler getting caught up in a panicked stampede. 
He had said he was stronger than he was fast. The Waterwitch thought the two should be able to bring down the white-tail together, so long as she managed to chase it close enough for the lilac-eyed woodlander to attack. Still, woman-who-hunts waited with silent patience to see if he had any objections -- willing to hear them out.
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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mahler's gaze had narrowed, fastening to the deer indicated by imaq. she spoke softly, and he gave a nod. best to do it this way, and he was in admiration of her strategy. there was of course the danger that the herd would turn upon the small duskfire woman, or otherwise cut her with their sharp hooves.
in that instance, mahler would turn his energies to protecting imaq.
but he did not think that they would fail,
"i vill vait here," he told her, indicating a low rise with a smudge of brush to keep him at least partially hidden. and close enough to observe the huntress, to watch over her and also see the patterns of the glacier wolves.
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With a small, albeit bright, grin and an enthusiastic nod, the speckled she-dog slunk away through the tall grass and low brush. Tupilak had to physically restrain herself from scampering in her excitement or rushing -- invigorated by the fresh air in her lungs, the heavy musk of the deer close by, and the anticipation of the hunt. Each step of the merle's feathered paws was placed carefully, avoiding any deadfall that might crackle and crunch under her weight or any stones she might knock aside. 

When, after eons had passed between the heavy thuds of her heart, she had found herself in the proper position behind the content herd, Imaq took a quick breath, lips twitching as if to give shape to the wordless thought she offered the inua

Then, she was doing what shepherds did best.

Perhaps it was unrefined, even domesticated of her. The Glacier cur burst from her hiding spot, racing toward the deer -- darting between the bodies that suddenly reared and twisted and whirled with panic. A flash of gold and speck of ivory was seen here or there as she snapped at the ungulates' ankles and legs, flitting away from the flying hooves and clods of dirt. 

When the majority of the deer had cleared out, her cracked gaze of seaglass landed on the targeted doe, limping heavily as she attempted to flee to safety with the receding members of her clan. Imaq lunged, speeding towards her and circling around the wounded grazer with care. 

She kept a safe distance away yet stood her ground as she barked at the injured doe, jumping back to avoid the lowing creature's clumsy kicks. Almost a dance between predator and prey. Until Imaq happened to snap her fangs a little too close to the deer's foreleg for comfort. It turned then, towards the rise where Mahler was hidden, picking up surprising speed as terror gave it a second wind. 

The wolfdog followed closely, nipping at the doe's pale underbelly to herd her along.  
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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mahler watched. there was an aspect distinctly unwolf to the way that imaq darted fearlessly through the long willowed legs with their dangerous hooves. her shorter limbs, more compact body; but he was not in judgement of her, the gargoyle found, only admiration.
she wove a glamour around the one they had chosen, and herded its quickening pace toward the rise. mahler felt each time that this was the true test of his strength; the killing-blow. and each time he was determined to connect, and knew that the first instance in which he did not would be the decline of him: swift and inevitable.
the staccato of hoofbeats rose in his ears and in his blood —
mahler was rising, harsh and terrible, a tower of graphite and ivory;
heavy forelegs around the slender neck, weighted jaws crushing down upon its throat;
pulled onward by the last impetus of the flailing body, hindquarters bunched and claws cutting swathes in the grassy earth.
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She kept pace alongside the fleeing beast, nearly forgetting her next task in the hunt when they reached Mahler and he lunged — seeming to wrap himself around the doe’s throat with lethal grace in spite of his advancing age. Imaq slowed for only a second, watching in awe as the pair tumbled to the earth, before racing forward to help her ally. 

When the two had stopped rolling, Imaq pounced — jumping up onto the deer’s spine to sink her fangs into the back of its nape. She clung there, opposite of the Graf, digging in deep with hopes of severing the fallen grazer’s spinal cord or at the very least, bleeding it out and speeding along its asphyxiation. 
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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lightly, fatally, imaq's small paws pressed against the spine of the animal. white teeth flashed as his own heavy jaws crushed through muscle and fat and bone, and finally into the throat of the animal itself.
the last bellows were accompanied by sprays of crimson. mahler stepped back as the deer began to falter, keeping hold, though his amethyst eyes darting somberly to imaq. if it toppled, it might well take the duskfire woman with it.
the gargoyle planted his feet against the earth.
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The she-dog didn't quite make the connection until she caught the way Mahler dug his claws into the earth, only then noticing that the creature was swaying dangerously. It was going to fall. 

The merle released her strangling grasp on the doe's neck and dove to the side with as much force as she could muster, tumbling rather than rolling away when her body struck the ground. A dizzying crash reverberated through the loam, through her bones, and when the seawolf had glanced up again -- the ungulate lay on its side, bested by the duo finally. 

Triumph and pride swelled to life in her chest, haunches wiggling in place of the tail she had been born without. Without prompt, Imaq's head fell back and she howled for both of their packs -- hoping Mahler might join in so that Rivenwood wouldn't be too alarmed by the sound of a stranger calling for those in their ranks. 

Perhaps a few others might spare the time to help them butcher and divvy up portions for both tribes. If not, it would be up to Mahler and Imaq to finish the messy task of splitting up the meat. 
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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at last their quarry came down into spavined jerks and lay in the gossamer of her own blood. the gargoyle panted a moment, casting a bemused and pleasant eye over the delighted imaq. and when he had caught his breath, he tilted back his head to join her song.
"good hunting," the man grunted when the tones had ended. "very good to share in this success vith you." a moment's smile, and then he fell to beginning the butchery.
he expected they would both be doused in blood and exhausted by the time it was over, and so paced himself, focusing on apportioning each slice of his jaws equally between rivenwood and duskfire.
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Her splotched lips curved radiantly, a sunbeam of warmth cast upon the woodlander. "Jah," the paitsijik returned appreciatively, ears ticking back a degree at the greyscale midwife's praise. "Imaq and Mahler hunt another time?" Even she could see he was aging but he still seemed capable and there was always a chance that their quarry would be easier to catch in the future. 

The duo did not linger to see if others from their packs would rally to the task but dove in -- the she-dog trotting to the Rivenwood patriarch's broad side to assist her tullik in chewing and tearing the elk into pieces for easier transportation.

fade with your post? :3 (or feel free to archive if you thought it ended well here. and thank you so much for this beautiful thread! Love your writing as always! )
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same to you! <3

mahler paused in his cutting to lick blood from his jaws and give imaq a pleasant nod. "yes ve shall."
he whiled away the rest of the hours with her, making polite conversation as they whittled the doe down to her offerings.
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