---

Their scents were on the wind, moving through the trees and Yaalk'ali followed. One feminine. One masculine. He felt he might have known the scent of the man, however vague. Perhaps he had been a loner feasting off the remains of kills left by the caribou hunters, which they left willingly so to them, as a showing of strength. It was the young female's (of course, knowing him) which would capture his attention most.

Drawing along the scent path, in time Aivar's own danced among them. Yaalk’ali paused, nose crinkled but after a moment decided to press on anyway.

Hungry. The single word of the lame wolf perked Yaalk'ali's ears. Once, when Aivar had been trailing the Saatsine for quite some time, he had offered to hunt with a woman known as Elisabet. A woman which because of his ideas of hunting the Saatsine herd without permission to do so, got her run off and marked as enemy while Aivar? Marked as slave. As it were, he had not learned his lesson. A lack of lesson which Yaalk'ali would make certain to report to Cen.

When he arrives, he does not offer Aivar his attention, savor a silent sneer before addressing the two which were not known. They were still at a distance from the herd. Still had not crossed any known lines among the caribou hunters. To them, Yaalk'ali greets with Cheshire grin. You've drawn near the Lanzadoii. He speaks in this tongue. He would know their worth by their words. We are Saatsine. My brother Cen here is Chieftan. I am Yaalk'ali.