11/19/2025, 6:22 AM
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.
"speaking common" - "speaking lanzadoii"
