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For Aivar. This is set a few days or so after this thread.

The noon sky was ladden with gray clouds and a bitter straight line wind that cut sharply through the winterscar. Yaalk'ali shook out his coat with a quiver, watching briefly as the caribou moved in search of sanctuary in the forests to the north.

Yaalk'ali touched nose to hard, cold earth, tracking the scent of the man that was Aivar. Yellow eyes searching for a dark splotch in the snowy backdrop that would pair with the trail.

There, in the distance. Yaalk'ali paced after, woofing out only when he drew near enough to share words.

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I am so sorry this took so long!

A strain against the snow, Aivar was never hard to spot. Slowly, very slowly, he was learning to adapt to this new life, these new ways. More and more often as of late, he found himself thinking of the past, what he missed, what he'd lost. This world was so very different. These people were so very different.

The red and grey fur of one of the caribou hunters he did not know bobbed towards him. Too straight of a line to be doing anything other than directly approaching Aivar, or Dzaan, as was his name here.

Amber eyes narrowed to slits. Suspicious as always, Aivar was unsure how to react. Raised hackles still seemed like the proper reaction, but it wasn't the action he should take towards a pack member. His tail, then, wagged slowly.