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Tove watches as the shadow offers a tight smile as she passes him the stone, worry fluttering in her chest that she is bothering him. But, as she looks at the stoic Viðarr, she watches his features soften and she offers him a gentle smile in return. Duel-toned eyes watch as Viðarr tacks down one side of the hide, instructing her to use the rock she holds to weigh down the other end. Nodding, Tove carefully places the rock before watching the large wolf tuck his flint knife away and leap from his perch. As he recovers, the nebula wolf nimbly clambers to his side, offering him a wide smile.

Viðarr’s question is answered with a firm nod and Tove takes the lead, quickly moving back down the path she had come from. White tipped ears flick back as he calls for his dogs and the small pack makes their way to the musk ox. Shifting with the wind to keep their scents from reaching the ox, the trek is slow but rewarding. Crouching low in the tall grass that populates the area, Tove points out the young musk ox that is wandering a little further away from the adults.

Turning her duel toned eyes to the shadow, she whispers, “I can herd it toward an ambush spot, if you want. Or we can run it down. Up to you.” A smile spreads as the thrill of the hunt takes hold and Tove awaits Viðarr’s plan.


"Tove Baade"