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Ksura <3

Snow has already begun to heap in spite of the low, swinging branches above this stretch of forest. Jackpines tangle in a cave just the width of her shoulder blades, snatching at hackles while the silver belly strokes the ice. There will be no respite from the cold this day, and she sensed, no respite from her head.
There was a particular moment on a biting december day when she’d sat beside her mother in the cover of the heart monolith. It had become their routine to sit in shadow and watch the huntmen spar while they plucked the doublecoat from their caribou hides. Mother had warned never to look forward as much as she looked back. Now it ghosts on in her ears, whispering of all the ways tradition had been bartered for taboo.
Iglux̂ meant to appease aasrivak’s spirit on the footpath of a distinctive caribou, one with a pearl coat who’d become her favorite to watch. But she is elusive, her scent leading the huntress higher into unclaimed wild.

At first, the snowflakes had driven him mad. The first flake that fell drifted past his eyelashes, meriting a chop! of his teeth as he snatched it from the air before it could hit the ground. Target acquired, he scanned the area for reinforcements, only to find that they fell from the grey clouds as little puffy clumps as far as the eye could see. Ksura, prone to bouts of hyperfixation, spent the next 65 minutes leaping and catching snowflakes, until at last he had the sense to give his hamstrings a break.

He was sore the next day, but recovered well enough and did not attempt to pull the same stunt the next time snow fell. With the novelty worn off, he accepted the arrival of wintertime, which seemed to creep in earlier every year.

He lived in the forest still, keeping mostly to himself aside from the odd visitor. Curiosity had nearly brought him to the borders of the Saatsine, but dread kept him from making that move. Still…

He reflected on his time with them, and found himself pining for the structured lifestyle again. As hazardous as it was, it had made him feel whole. Language barrier aside, he’d felt included, and useful. He wondered if another pack might suit him as well, and scratch that itch- but for some reason, he doubted it. The Saatsine had been something else.

He lay, plucking feathers from an unlucky duck, keeping the pile of feathers pinned beneath one paw so he might add them to his hastily made den for insulation. He might have noticed the wandering woman earlier had it not been for his focus, but it wasn’t until he saw a flicker of movement in the distance that he looked up, caught her scent and realized that not only was he no longer alone-

But that he was in the presence of a wolf of Saatsine.

If she’d seen his playful antics the day prior, Iglux̂ might have approached with more amusement than wariness. As it was, she saw only the sprawl of a wolverine-man over his faintly steaming prey in this tightly wooded pathway, and felt with prickling certainty that a fight born of prey guarding would ensue.
She’s already been spotted. It is too late to backpedal, and the huntress isn’t certain pride would allow it. Her eyes shift beyond the trail, then back to the man, irony sounding now from the maternal voice which bids her to look back and not forward. But the huntress knows better than to rouse spirits with ingratitude.
A dull wind catches between herself and this stranger, curling his scent toward her. She can smell his oils on it; cedar and sweat, waterfowl and flesh, and is vaguely aware of her own scent beginning to ripen to a sweeter point now as the trees bleed. There is fear in incurring his wrath but she takes the chance, lifting to all fours and burring out the thick, silver tail. A crystalline glaze falls from her sheathing.
“Not want bird. Let pass,” Iglux̂ makes her voice sharp while her throat shakes from the nerve, eyes pointedly avoiding his own.