Lightning over snow.

Clouds raced overhead. They were dark, damning and thick to block the rise of the moon and fall of the sun.

Nutuyikruk walked the edge of the black lake and watched the blue streaks of lightning light up the shaded ground.

She could see the steps of each family who had ever sworn her under their wing fading, fading away. A sourness burned in her chest.

They did not know the choices for which she had to make. And one by one, every step was taken as a goodbye to the pain of all who haunted her so that it would never once show its ugly face again. Their voices, their faces, and all who had failed, let them be erased. Still they followed.

For all that Aivar had supposedly put his past behind him, inside of him was a gaping hole. Wind from the storm stirred the long guard hairs at his shoulders, and the stormcoat hung his head to stare into the black water of the lake. It was not the first time. His eyes were drawn to the scar on his face, and he reached out with a paw to touch his reflection. It rippled, and the image fell apart—as did his heart.

Lightning split the sky, lighting his world briefly—sharp, harsh contrasts. He lifted his muzzle to the sky, and as he lowered his head once more, he saw his sun-touched acquaintance padding along the lakeshore. Thunder rumbled through the sky, and Aivar could feel the ground quiver. The air itself felt electric, and was sharp with the scent of ozone.

He stood and trotted along the water's edge, head low with his awkward, lurching trot. He hopped every time his left hind leg should have hit the ground, and he slowed as he neared her.

“Hey,” Aivar greeted with a lopsided smile. “Mind if I join you?” He was still trying to figure these northern wolves out, but so far, he found he enjoyed Nutuyik's company.

---

hope you don't mind Caan lurking/being an angsty brat <3

Under the dark roll of the clouds, Nutuyikruk had beaten the boy to the lakeside. It was a petulant thing, to be possessive of one's lakeside escape, but Caan knew he would forgive Nutuyikruk for taking his self-appointed place on the lakeshore. The moon girl had earned the sight of a more gentle side to the rain boy. He dared not to call her a friend, but she was the closest thing he had to one.

And like any child, he wanted to show the closest thing he had to a friend something shiny and neat. Caan did not join Nutuyikruk by the lake, not immediately. The boy had left to find where he stashed the flint Iglux̂ had gifted to him. The boy did not carry the trinket everywhere as he had the fawn skin, but he always returned for it.

What Caan did not anticipate, was the sight of a stranger strolling right on over to the moon girl. Who did this guy think he was? Walking up to his almost-sorta-maybe-friend at his spot by the lake.

The mighty huff from the boy's lungs was muffled both by his trinket and by the storm looming overhead. His icy stare bore into the back of the strange man's head. Caan noted the man's scent, coat, and even the limp that was not too unlike his own.

---

not at all<333

Nutuyikruk was lost in many thoughts before turning to see the eyes of him. He stays. For whatever reason. Aivar jumped on the one leg, and despite whatever pain that caused, held a smile. One was not returned, for she looked ahead next and continued to walk the waters edge. An ear flicked, nose awkwardly nudging backwards in the direction of him, but she saw only the snow below their feet.

“..Sure.”

Caribou rested on the lakeside across from them, grunting with their strong throats and lifting their heads high. Cows stood near their growing offspring, and the bulls moved closer along the water. They knew well of wolves, yet did not leave.

She searched for words that would offer better company than the surge of emotions in her body now, but those feelings would not die and Nutuyikruk felt deep shame. Only continued to walk, and did not expect Aivar to maintain interest in her.

---

I've been looking forward to Aivar meeting Caan. Hehe

Amidst the strong smell of ozone sharp in his nose, Aivar could smell the faint scent of another nearby, and he glanced over his shoulder to see a young wolf glaring… at him? It sure looked like it. He flicked his tail and kept his ears angled towards the stranger. He smelled of the caribou hunters, and so Aivar didn't worry himself too much, but the sharpness in that icy stare warranted at least some vigilance. Aivar himself was still very much a stranger lurking among them.

Nutuyik herself did not seem glad to see him, only half-heartedly agreeing that he could join her. Aivar's smile faltered. He was never really a wolf for lifting up others’ spirits, and he wasn't sure exactly what haunted her, but some shadow clung to her as the sky so ominously growled and bared its flashing lightning fangs.

“Are… you alright?” He prompted at last.

---

apologies for the wait, thank you for your patience!

The man looks over his shoulder, and Caan does not relent in his glaring. A ripple down his spine raised his hackles when he was subsequently unaddressed. The man's posture acknowledges the rain boy's existence, but the acknowledgement does not satisfy Caan. The flint was placed gently upon the ground to prevent scratches to the surface.

You know, it's rude not to introduce yourself. Especially when you're close to our camp. Caan does not hide the discontent in his voice. The boy stole forward a few paces in Nutuyikruk's direction. Through the rain, he was able to get a hint of the man's scent. It wasn't too unfamiliar, the stranger must have been lingering around the Winter Scar for some time. Unfortunately for Aivar, he now had to meet the chieftain's stormcloud of a son.

Do you really want him around, Nutuyikruk? Or is he bothering you? The boy now aimed his attention to the moon girl. His words slipping into the Lanzadoii tongue. I'll bite him if you want me to.

Caan saved her from answering a question she knew she’d break to. Instead, he replaced it with a new path, and it was time for Aivar to face the trials of meeting the band after slinking along the outsides for days. Cen had accepted the presence at first for what she could only assume was trust that he’d been chewed up and down in assessment of threat. It did not mean the inevitable wouldn’t come, and that inevitable had fortunately or unfortunately been her favorite spitfire boy.

A small curve of a smile, a nudge in Aivar’s direction with tired an eyes. “I would worry if you are okay. We have a visitor...

Nutuyikruk did not dare walk in front of the prince and slowed to invite Caan forward, brushing flanks with Aivar in comfort as she slid back. “The prince.”

N-no! Thank you for the offer. The girls tail hit the wind in ways before dropping to feign appropriate behavior, not knowing if she was excited or horrified! She whispered as though Aivar could understand. He is under trial.

Aivar's ear flicked, angling back to the child behind him. He stared at Nutuyik as she spoke. Slowly he turned his head and then his body to face the young wolf that was declaring it was rude not to introduce himself, especially when he was so close to their camp. Aivar's tongue slipped from his mouth, curling over his muzzle.

“A prince huh?” he cocked a brow, tone dry as he appraised the boy with mild curiosity, the one may look at a strange new insect. Nutuyik passed by him, her flank brushing against his as she turned to speak to her prince in a language that the boy had used—a language he could not understand. Frustration listed the fur along his spine and his head lowered.

“You know, I'm a prince too,” he said matter-of-factly as he swallowed the anger. “My name is Aivar,” he said as he raised his tail proudly. And he didn't care if this brat thought he was rude.

Nutuyikruk introduced him as a prince. Caan strained not to remind her that he didn't particularly feel like a prince, for this strange man, Aivar, latched on it without a second thought. The man's voice carried the word with little reverence, for he introduced himself as a prince.

Caan decided that biting Aivar wasn't completely off the table as the man flagged his tail and spoke as though they were equal. For Nutuyikruk informed Caan of the very fact that they were not.

To be a prince implied that you were entitled to inherit something, at least in Caan's mind. To own something. Did this prospective hunter understand that whatever ground his kin had claimed meant nothing on the long march?  There was no value to claiming land you were going to move from. That is why Caan claimed the proximity to their camp. He only owned the ground beneath his feet at any given moment.

Across the lake the caribou paid no mind to the wolves or the downpour. The boy's eyes gleamed as his gaze passed over them, for he was entitled to something greater than land.

Prince of what, Aivar? Caan did not quell beneath the man's gaze, his voice cool. If you truly wish to be Saastine, you would be forfeiting it. Surely you know this, if you are under trial.