Monotony became this woman’s reality, comprised of the tedious chores coupled with pack stability. The routine that was once taken with vigor was not drawled through with apparent reluctance and fatigue. Each hour that past, each day, was just another of dying slowly, working away to the bitter bone til there was naught but marrow and pain. The cold seeped through her steps and further weighed her down, trudging the beast along the marked terrain with rigid steps, her limbs rattling with cold. She was a creature built to withstand the cold, but not without some kind of rekindling to her internal flame.
Time spent in the outdoors had weathered down her radiant fire to a smolder barely able to keep her warm throughout her duties. Its heat only minutely coursed from heart to veins before the cold stole it away in an instant. She had grown tired, pushing herself beyond what her reserves would allow and then what energy she could muster was used to the hunt, leaving her even more exhausted thereafter. Instead of the more impressive kills, she made due with small winter hares when the circumstances permitted it. After the initial morning takedown through the harem, the prey ventured further away from the rare winter greens for safer grounds, and the female could not be bothered to follow their trail. She was simply too tired… too worn away.
With the subtle wane of the afternoon light, the Nomad finally set her course for home nestled in the mountains. With Saluce’s sickness, they could not afford to keep their prior den without the risk of the sickness spreading. Ichika’s numbers as a whole had already dwindled to a few able bodies. Last burden that need to befall them was the compromised health of the nurturing pair of Nayru and Saul. She had left Sarian in their care for the morning, not at all regretting her decision to leave the child behind. As must as she cared for the girl, in the end she was not of her blood; a new concept that was growing more defined in the woman’s mind with each passing day. To appease her culture, she saw no qualm in following the examples laid down by her forebears and Shepard; let the young be raised by the family- the pack.
Coming to the warm maw of the den, she announced herself with a soft ‘woof’, two hares and a sprig of herbs in her possession. No doubt her mate was smothered in furs, attempting to hide his weakness with poor avail. Within the darkness she spied a mound of trembling furs and sighed softly at its pathetic display. Her limbs at last gave way, and the towering figure collapsed beside the pile of furs. Her nose cringed at the stench of sickness and stale meat. “I have told you before,” she sighed softly, placing a hand atop the rise of furs. “You need to eat to regain your strength. Letting it sit is just a waste of a hunt…” And a waste of her precious energy.