Firefly Glen piiyaktuk argiksuk

The stench that one might expect from such a discovery did not arise. The remains were old. There was a faint dewy, wet dog kind of smell that Kigipigak thought he detected - then nothing. He was busy recoiling from the mass of flies that had been disturbed.

Teetering backwards, he absently stepped on the dead thing's partially exposed ribcage, feeling something fleshy give to the pressure. A plethora of mushrooms had found the moist and dark atmosphere of the cavity to their liking; still, it was enough to turn Kigipigak's stomach.

As he climbed some fallen bits of shattered log, someone else materialized nearby. That was his explanation for the red-coated girl's arrival anyway, as he had missed her initial approach.

I thought it was stones, Kigipigak answered, swallowing back the reflex in his throat. ...I think something bad happened here.

Something he really didn't want to find. Something that this girl ought not to see, he thought, and so he moved to block her path and guide her away if possible. So much for hunting.