Everyone's Got a Baby Caribou.

Aristaios observed the group with admiration, the sharpness of their focus and the precision of their movements specifically — it had been a long while since he’d been part of a group like this, however fleeting it was. The caribou were close. Their scent mingled with the crisp pine, an unmistakable signal to any seasoned hunter.

Moving beside the others, Aristaios felt his own breath mist in the icy air, his ears twitching to catch the faintest sound. His eyes scanned the landscape, alert to any sign of movement. The herd was within sight now, and one would be their quarry.

He nodded to the others, a silent signal he was ready to proceed. The chase was about to begin. The anticipation electrified the air, every sense heightened in the moment before the pursuit.


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