Tikigâk, in the meantime, remained productive. Only when the woman moved slowly forward did the she-wolf pause, her sharp gaze landing upon the other. Her mate could handle the woman easily independently, but he would not need to—Tikigâk would aid him in any kill that was for their family. She would not be the first—only the first of her kind. Caribou, ox, cougar, wolf… whatever the quarry or the foe, together they two would cut it down.

She stared for too long, and her mate made his literal mark. Tikigâk, too, kicked the earth behind her, scuffing it and spreading more of her scent.

And then she returned to the hunt, as the other wasted their own time. Tikigâk watched the waters again, and soon enough another salmon found itself between her forelegs and then snared betwixt her teeth. She flung the flopping thing to the shore and killed it quickly after, her gaze turning to the shadows the stranger had retreated within before looking to meet the gaze of her mate.

Time to move on. She took the kills into her mouth and moved with him—shoulder to shoulder, ear to ear, as they always would. When next they paused they could eat the food she had caught for them, but other hunters might have interest in the waters and what it could offer. Better to be away from it sooner rather than later, and eat on the go.

Down the slope did she follow him, mouth full and their shared bond strengthened.