Hey Caribou-bou, How About That Pick-I-Nic Basket

Dómari quietly eyed the small herd of caribou. He'd been tracking a larger herd but then they'd started breaking off into smaller groups. It soon became clear they were doing whatever mating rituals it was that caribou did. He was eyeing a younger, wounded male who was bleeding from a gash on his neck. Dómari frowned. The buck was still far too large to risk taking out by himself, even if it was wounded. It was frustrating to get this far north and realize he probably wasn't going to have a shot. Unless one of the bucks actually managed to kill each other the risk was too great. If Dómari broke a bone up here he was never going to get back to Valhalla.