The white wolf had eventually found his way out of the weald when he picked up the scent of salt air coming from the distant seas. It was a scent he knew too well.
As soon as he got away from the austere watch of the weald's ancient trees, he followed west towards Iktome Plains and eventually entered Tuktu Hinterlands.
Dealing with the tortuous passage of the Twisted Slough was a challenge, testing both his stamina and his mental strength: if the tangle of the thick roots was a danger to cross in broad daylight, at night, the roots transformed into vile hands, grasping his ankles with such force they seemed willing to tear out one of his legs. The thin branches of the willows were death traps to Amaguq's eye and had threatened to render him blind several times. Even the ground he walked seemed cursed: the earth was soft and murky, and Amaguq's pads sunk easily. His moves had to be supple and fast not to get stuck in that place.
What lies beyond Twisted Slough? Amaguq wondered about it... Surely some lush and beautiful land, filled with game, clear water, and secret wonders! At least that was the thought he had clung to not to lose his resolve, but what awaited him on the other side was far from being the promised land: the air was heavy with moist, heat, and foul scents; the ground was muddy, the waters murky and teeming with weird, slimy creatures he wouldn't dare to taste.
The wolf strode the swamplands, suffocated by the unbearable climate, with the bugs nagging him relentlessly; he was wet, filthy, and homesick for the very first time in his life.
Amaguq knew adversity throughout his life, but that place was on a whole other level entirely. Why would the Gods guide him to such a wretched place was yet to be known...
As soon as he got away from the austere watch of the weald's ancient trees, he followed west towards Iktome Plains and eventually entered Tuktu Hinterlands.
Dealing with the tortuous passage of the Twisted Slough was a challenge, testing both his stamina and his mental strength: if the tangle of the thick roots was a danger to cross in broad daylight, at night, the roots transformed into vile hands, grasping his ankles with such force they seemed willing to tear out one of his legs. The thin branches of the willows were death traps to Amaguq's eye and had threatened to render him blind several times. Even the ground he walked seemed cursed: the earth was soft and murky, and Amaguq's pads sunk easily. His moves had to be supple and fast not to get stuck in that place.
What lies beyond Twisted Slough? Amaguq wondered about it... Surely some lush and beautiful land, filled with game, clear water, and secret wonders! At least that was the thought he had clung to not to lose his resolve, but what awaited him on the other side was far from being the promised land: the air was heavy with moist, heat, and foul scents; the ground was muddy, the waters murky and teeming with weird, slimy creatures he wouldn't dare to taste.
The wolf strode the swamplands, suffocated by the unbearable climate, with the bugs nagging him relentlessly; he was wet, filthy, and homesick for the very first time in his life.
Amaguq knew adversity throughout his life, but that place was on a whole other level entirely. Why would the Gods guide him to such a wretched place was yet to be known...
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