Redtail Rise i miss you on a train, i miss you in the morning

The glacier had been bittersweet. While the ice was cool and familiar and reminded her fondly of Moonsong, thoughts of Kangirsuk plagued her sleeping mind. She thought of Taqtara and how her sister would have loved to explore its crevasses. And then of quiet Illuliaq and her sweet laughter as they romped through the snow. She knew in her heart that Sedna still watched their souls, yet it hurt that they had never said goodbye.

In the end, she had descended fitfully to the forest below and slept there instead.

Memories of Dutch's song spurred her onwards towards the coast come morning. It had been barely a whisper - perhaps only the voice of the wind through the winter trees - but she had replayed it over and over lest he too vanish into the snow.

The thick scent of wolves at last drew her from her worry. Though she did not recognise them, the though of a northern-ranging pack was enough to pique her interest and it could prove useful to map their whereabouts. 

Her voice echoed up the rise as she poised patiently beyond the border, wondering curiously who would answer her call.

@Masquerade @Redd @Mountain Boulder

Many thoughts clouded the Caru’s mind on this dreary January day, making it difficult to focus on the task at hand: padding the caches with small prey. She had yet to catch anything despite several promising leads. Masque abandoned the site of her latest failure and loped toward the borders, hoping she might have better luck outside the territory.

A howl rose into the wintry air, provoking her into a bristling growl. Catching herself, Masque smoothed her metaphorical petticoats and trotted toward the source of the call. She found a white she-wolf and growled again, though this one didn’t smell of estrus. The Caru closed the distance, golden eyes narrowed and body language leaving nothing to the imagination: she was the dominant wolf here.

There were a thousand questions she could ask of the stranger, though Masquerade did not speak. She simply stared at her, waiting for her to explain what she was doing on the rise’s doorstep.

The wolf was swift in her approach and would have been quite unremarkable save for the vibrant mask of red that painted her face. She wondered briefly if it was stained with berries, but she could detect no sweetness in their scent. Only musk.

A saccharine smile was offered in responses to the growl, meltwater gaze meeting the sun-kissed shade of the other in brief scrutiny before her posture relaxed and her head dipped with an accompanying low wag of her tail. "Atelihai - greetings," she called over the short distance, not wanting to approach further lest this upset the bristling wolf more. 

If they spoke a northern tongue or not, Ulloriaq was not perturbed.

"I am not here to cause trouble - simply passing by," she continued after a heartbeat.  "Are you the chief of this village?"

Masque demonstrated her disapproval of the eye contact with a growl, which tapered into silence when the stranger quickly deferred. She closed the remaining distance between them on stiff legs, deliberately coming too close for comfort.

Are you here to join our ranks? she asked in her deep tenor, ignoring the stranger’s questions for the moment.

It could have been any mixture of tiredness and grief that saw her patience wear thin, releasing a puff of air from her nose as the wolf drew nearer. Their scent was clammy and unpleasant and she was more than happy to be rid of it as she sidestepped away in an attempt to restore the distance. 

"No," she laughed briefly, if only to try and dissipate the tension growing between the two. Though she was disappointed with their lack of hospitality, she did not blame them for keeping the nature of their village hidden for now. "I belong to village Moonsong already." While it was true, the scent had unsurprisingly faded from her pelt by now. She supposed, then, it wasn't such an incredulous question to ask, though it surprised her nonetheless.

Uncomfortable enough not to press for further information after her first request was denied, Ulloriaq left the floor open to the pack wolf.

It doesn’t sound like you have any business here, Masque replied, and I don’t have time for idle chitchat. I need to hunt.

She left the “you should go” unsaid, though her body language spoke plainly for her. Masque motioned with her head toward the neutral territories beyond the rise, inviting the she-wolf to take her leave.

As much as she wanted to be rid of the rise, Ulloriaq was not keen on leaving just yet. She could return to Dutch with news of a neutral but rather unfriendly village to the north, which would not prove particularly useful, or she could push her luck once more.

Tail brushing her hocks, she held herself low but firm - an invitation as well as an acknowledgment of their dominance. It was an olive branch, whether they were aware of it or not.

"Perhaps we may hunt together? You would be free to take the bulk back to your village, of course. But, two sets of fangs are better than one, no?" 

The woman didn’t take the hint. Masquerade’s nostrils flared as she drew in a breath, naturally appeased by the submissive posturing. As for the offer, she was less inclined to accept. The rise was teeming with Ulfrs—a thought which inflated her chest further—and it did not need any outside help.

But she took a moment to consider it. Two wolves wouldn’t be able to go after much larger prey than a single wolf, particularly if they’d never worked together before. The idea of taking home the lion’s share was tempting but Masque wound up shaking her head. The bulk of a rabbit still wasn’t much of a meal.

No, she said simply. I only hunt with my own, Masque added, which wasn’t actually true although perhaps, she thought, it ought to be.

At their hesitation, Ulloriaq thought for a moment she might have gotten through to them. Until the proverbial fishing rod came up empty. Some nuts were just too tough - and too proud - to crack. 

"Very well," she sighed, rolling her shoulders back to ease the stiffness that had begun to gather on her spine. "I shall leave you to idle chitchat with the hares." Her voice was light despite the disappointment she felt. It was, quite plainly, a waste of her time to push further.

Her thoughts wandered briefly to the bison hunt - would they have attended? She snorted and turned to leave. Definitely not. It had never sat right to have a village closed off to aid, though she would not voice these opinions to them.

"Moonsong wishes you good hunting."

Masquerade’s head tilted at the quip, trying to puzzle out whether it was an insult, a joke or perhaps both. The she-wolf was leaving, which was all that truly mattered. The humming tension in the Caru’s muscles immediately began to relax as the stranger turned.

She nodded her head at the parting comment, appreciating the sentiment, supposing it was genuine. Masquerade chuffed to acknowledge it, goldenrod eyes following the woman’s figure until it became little more than a speck in the distance. Only then did she set off herself, keen to make at least one kill for @New Snow’s stocks.