Silver Moraine like a waterfall, my tears dropped to the floor, the floor

Standing at the edge of Herbalists' Cache, River looked out onto the plains and scanned for a sight of any herds milling about. But the dry field was barren, and her nose could detect nothing fresh among the trails that led out of the woods. Her gaze and trajectory turned eastward instead, electing to visit the moraine's higher ground rather than traverse the open emptiness of Dawnlark.

She maintained a steady lope under the overcast sky, keeping a mind for shelter should she need to bunker down for the night under a light snowfall. There were still several hours until dark, however, so she dedicated most of this time to familiarizing herself with the lay of the evergreens that rimmed this weathered, former glacier.

Kigipigak ranged farther from the river every day. He did not believe the river could sustain his freshly grown family given the fact he was better versed with land prey than aquatic, forcing him to seek out the familiar but abandoned hunting grounds previously used by the glacier village.

With spring having found its way back to the area, Kigipigak held on to a shred of hope that the herds might return with their own children in tow; a calf would be extremely valuable after weeks of struggle. So when Kigipigak heard movement through the fresh snow, he made a bee-line after it, hoping to spot something he could chase.

Though on the hunt herself, River wasn't particularly aware of her surroundings. She was mostly just going through the motions: look forward, sniff, look left, sniff, look right, sniff. She never looked back. It was all she could do to abstain from falling into a trap of introspection.

Don't think. Don't think. Don't think.

Had the wind been in her favor, she might have caught the deerstalker's approach, but he went unnoticed as she forged a path along the snow-dusted treeline. Eventually, her canter came to a halt, and she paused over a set of hoofprints that traveled from the plains into the moraine's forest. It was alone, and she knew from the scent that it was a bull elk. She could smell no illness there, as she had expected, but she followed its trail anyway, eager for the distraction.

When it came into view, River balked at the size of its antlers and hesitated to proceed. There was nothing sick about this ungulate. And if she wanted to take it down, she would be in for a long night.

What he saw looked more canine than cervid - which was fine, because the stranger looked to be focused in their own right upon a path. There were signs of deer if one knew what to look for; signs which would have made Kigipigak fill with hope, given that this place had been abandoned for so long after the sickness ravaged the herds. He was more intrigued by the deft movements of the other wolf to heed the hints.

He moved after them. If they had indeed sighted something worth taking down then he would lend his teeth. He wanted to come over the rise and see an entire sprawling herd to be pulled apart by diligent work - instead, as he wound his way through the forest on the heels of the stranger, Kigipigak found a single target which now faced both wolves, brandishing a fine crown.

Keep back! He shouted. Knowing the sound of his voice would draw the buck's attention, he veered off the path in one direction and then slowed to a stalking gait, keeping his own distance while purposefully splitting the buck's attention.

In a low voice that he hoped would carry, Kigipigak spoke again: We can take it down together. Presuming this woman was a hunter, as her movements had indicated.

At the shout, both River and the elk turned startled gazes towards the perpetrator. It was a broad white wolf -- undoubtedly male, given his voice -- roving as he commanded all the attention in the area. Smaller prey in the vicinity vanished, and a flock of mourning doves took to the skies. The elk bellowed in the direction of the ghostly hunter, and swung his antlers in a proud show of intimidation.

River, on the other hand, had settled back into a crouch. She didn't like to be ordered around, and fully intended to ignore the other wolf, until she realized that his motive was to join her, not warn her away entirely. Their chances were better together. Wounding the creature would be an easy task between them, and they could inflict twice as many lacerations, bloodletting the crowned animal quickly. She was warm to the prospect of not spending her whole night chasing this elk to its eventual death.

Keep its attention, River assented. I'll go for the ankles. With practiced movements, she took up a position opposite of the pale stranger, preparing herself to stream forward the second the elk's back was to her.

It was a good plan. Alone against something that size, a wolf would no doubt struggle and more than likely fail in the end, which was something Kigipigak could not afford. He could draw its attention long enough for the stranger to get some cuts in though; then maybe try to tear at it himself while it reeled, and bled.

He nodded to the woman and began to circle the target, letting out some barks or snarls to keep it distracted, so that when it turned away from the stranger she could do her work. She appeared healthy and moved quickly, giving Kigipigak the idea that this was not the first time she had done such a thing.

It was fortunate for him, and for his hungry family hidden away, that they had crossed paths in a place once so empty of game.