Duskfire Glacier greed

tags for ref!

two days to rest.
at midmorning, lestan called to @Kigipigak and @Sakhmet, to tell them he was leaving on his excursion. the clock could begin now.
he wanted to ask amalia along, but ultimately this was a test. after all, his place among them was not yet determined.
lestan could not hide his excitement as he left the borders of natigvik, traveling upriver. the closer he came to the glacier, the larger the chunks of ice were.
noting this, lestan inhaled. to his left, a field of lupine flowers spread pleasantly. golden and indigo, they kissed the ankles of mule deer which lifted their heads to look at the wolf.
he opted not to stop.
by the afternoon, lestan made a stop in the formerly named bosk iana. the trees here were almost achingly beautiful, and a pleasant song wended through the branches. here he sat to rest, to look, and to listen.

vague still about outcomes!

Sunday Morning continued to skirt the Rise. In her life, she and her natal pack followed prey where they moved. It was what caused Sunday Morning to move from the Moraine to the Glacier this day. She followed the wind, diligent in her tracking. She did not know what fare the Rise wolves preferred, but she would mark them all, and lead the hunters to the places she discovered that were rich with beasts to chase.

It was an errant wind that brought the scent of mule deer to her when she lingered on the fringes of the Moraine. It was these creatures that brought Sunday here. Their eyes were not upon her, but another. This one in the far distance forged ahead. Perhaps he knew something she did not.

And so she followed after him, only pausing to squat and leave a message for her mate of where she was, and where she would return. But for now, she would pursue the other wolf to see what he might be heading toward.

The stranger might easily have recognized he was being pursued. Sunday Morning was indiscreet, only silent when she thought she caught wind of an animal he might have determined to take down or inspect instead. None of these wayward animals caught his interest, it seemed. The sun continued its upward climb, and Sunday continued after him all the while until he stopped.

Sunday stopped, too, keeping her distance. She looked around them, noting the woods. She was not moved by them, but was glad for the shade. The wind sang through the trees, different than how it howled against the mountains. It was not unpleasant. But there was no food to be found here, to her dismay. Still, she was not put off by it. Sunday Morning took some odd steps forward before she whuffed in greeting, tail swaying behind her. If he looked to her then, he would see that she sampled the air before her attention went back to him, a curious light in her eye. Had he not come here to hunt?  He sat down.

Ah, perhaps he had already hunted, and had come here to rest.

he snapped around, very startled and bottlebrushed to be disturbed at his contemplation of the natural world. "oh! hello!" lestan gasped, laughing a bit. she was quite pretty, with a pale coat and knowing eyes. was everyone here so enchanting?
"i was exploring. well, i was sent here to explore, but i got — caught up in skylarking," he babbled. he shut his eyes and grimaced at himself. "anyway, i am lestan mayfair, of natigvik, just that way."
suddenly he was reminded that he was to track prey.
"did you see the deer? back in the meadow?" he thoughtfully paused. "i could use some help. i've been charged with finding where they go."

As she noted his hackles rising, Sunday Morning took several steps away. She could see that she had surprised him; she knew not everyone took well to such, and his initial body language suggested to her she ought to tread carefully. She could understand, as she would have done the same caught unawares. His voice, though, was light and airy. There was joy in the sounds that he made. Sunday Morning's tail waved slowly behind her at that, more of a happy little twitch than anything else then.

The most captivating thing about this one was his eyes. They reminded her of the ocean she had ranged past in the later days of her journey. Of its cool waters, and its shore both. And so he became Ocean Eyes to her.

Ocean Eyes spoke on, his tone not disgruntled. She felt more at ease for it, nostrils flaring to drink in the scent of him. Not unfamiliar, this scent. His gesture was one her gaze followed, though her eyes were quick to return to him at the familiar word deer. Sunday Morning perked up, looking back in the direction they both had come from before her bright yellow eyes returned to him.

Her tail waved as she let out two affirmative whuff-whuffs, turning and stepping toward the trail she had just taken. It would be easy enough to get back to where they were. Though she watched him, interested to see if he had meant to follow another trail of theirs she had not yet gleaned.

she did not speak at all. he couldn't tell if this was tragic or if she was far more suited for the world than he. after all, she seemed quite focused and communicated well without a single word, while he babbled on and on like a brook without end.
she wanted to come with him. her confidence brought him along at once, and he stepped to her side. "my leader sent me to — look around. let's follow them and see where they go."
he wondered what her name could be! the wolfess seemed eager to lead, and so he motioned that he would let her seek out the deer. he looked around them as they walked, marveling open-mouthed at the glacier's splendor.

Some words she had become familiar with. Look. She looked. Follow. She understood this, too. She slowed a beat, but it seemed he was alright with her leading. More things were said, the rest beyond her full comprehension, but for the word go. She picked up the pace, she went. Back to the animals and where it was they had been.

It was easy to retrace her own steps. The path was fresh, and the wind at their backs seemed to only make their progress quicker. And soon enough, the miles were eaten away and the herd again stood before them, grazing. Sunday Morning desired to bring Red Woman here, with Mountain Boulder.

But she was content today to do as hunters did, and assess. Sunday Morning jogged casually toward the herd, her presence and her way not causing much alarm among the group. She peered to her companion, to see what it was he would do once among them.

lestan watched her easy jog. he followed, attempting to imitate.
it was odd, not to fill the empty space with words. the mayfair discovered he enjoyed it. the deer settled, their eyes alert. but they did not seem fearful as the wolves did not hunt.
the man walked carefully among them. he studied each individual, looking for markings or scars which might set them apart.
lestan inclined his head toward a young buck with a completely white muzzle, dazzled by the sight.

Sunday Morning walked with him among the animals. They seemed nonplussed, and presently unimpressed with their company. Sunday's gaze roved over the beasts as she moved, licking her chops. So far, all seemed in good health. Her head swung toward Ocean Eyes as he gestured toward one of them. Sunday doubled back, curiosity piqued. But the smell of the animal he had observed indicated they were in good condition. And, the beast was young.

His appearance was unique, but he was not sickly. She wondered if because this one drew the eye, it became to him worth an extra look. Sunday would have thought as much were he in any other condition but for the prime one it presently was. It was a good reminder that one ought to hunt with their nose; were one to go off of appearances alone, it could be dangerous.

Sunday circled around Ocean Eyes and looked back to the herd. Did he want to test any of them, or was he content only to get a look?

lestan looked between the buck and an older cow. they appeared to be related, sharing the same pale muzzle. "fascinating," he muttered to himself, half-forgetting the cautious white wolf was close. 
that was until she caught his eye. lestan smiled at her. "look," he said next, toward a pair of young deer. not fawns, but born late.
"it's a family herd," he marveled. maybe they all were. maybe deer were like them in that regard, denning and eating and living with their loved ones. and he was only just noticing!

Sorry for the delay! Last from me here <3

New Snow had come to learn many a word through repetition. Only two stood out amongst all that Lestan spoke: look. Her gaze followed his own. He spoke another word unrecognized, though the one that followed it was familiar among their kind. The same guttural noise for it that she might make. Herd.

She blinked happily back to the man, nodding. Yes, they had once again found the herd... dwelt among it. And from this distance, New Snow could ascertain no weaknesses yet. The young were not too young, spry and likely not unwise to the way of the hunter by now. Young enough still, though, where they might yet be targeted.

With her own information gained, New Snow looked to Lestan and dipped her head in silent goodbye. It was time to return to Mountain Boulder, Red Woman, and the rest; perhaps she might lead her man here, and see what he might think of this herd.

<3

the white wolf was away. lestan too dipped his head, and tossed his ruff in thanks to her for this find. 
he felt territorial over the deer, but did not show this, remaining affable until she had moved out of sight. then he set his shoulders and pressed on, determined to know them each by marking by day's end.