Closed Teaming Up

[Kalimalka]

The one thing about living in the tundra of Avanthal is that you can see anything bigger then ermine coming from miles away. Which is both a boon and extremely inconvenient when you are a hunter. Sure, you can see potential prey and anything big enough to think you prey from far enough away that you can either follow or run away before you are within shouting distance. But that also means they can see you. Kalimalka sits cross-legged in the basket of her sled, wearing her human skin and a heavy, grey fur coat with blue eyes focussed somewhere in the middle distance, chewing on a length of tough jerky while contemplating this problem. She has set out with the intent to bag some game, and although she has been out here for hours she has caught nothing. Not a single hare, linx, or fox has passed through her hungry mouth, but have instead passed by the distance with a look of (what she believes to be) smug superiority. There will always be days of horrible luck like this, dragging your sled back to camp with an empty basket and an air of defeat. But she's not willing to except that quite yet. She stretches her arms cat-like above her head and rolls her shoulders under her coat. Underneath her heavy winter wear she still wears her harness across her chest, and the leather pulls across her ribs as a reminder that she has promised herself to keep trying. A heavy sigh passes through her lips and she flops to her back, gazing at the cloudless sky with a mixture of frustration and exasperation. Stubbornly refusing to voice what she needs even in the privacy of her own mind. Because what she really needs is a human. Someone with a weapon that can reach farther than a muzzle, even if just by a bit. Someone with a higher stance that can see farther than she can while plowing through snow. But voicing that thought will drag her towards the answer to her problem, even if that answer has been dead for almost a year. Takoda. The Kelvic suddenly springs to life with a growl, shutting down that dangerous train of thought, scarfing down the last of her jerky and jumping to her feet with the ferocity of startled bear. She promised herself to keep trying and she will, dammit.

[Jasha]

Despite the snow sweat had begun to drip down Jasha's brow as he struggled through the knee high snow. Not for the first time his legs became caught and he fell, landing face first in the ice. Vassi, who had been following behind in the path his master had cleared paused, ears perked forward as if wondering what was wrong. "It's easy for you," Jasha mumbled past a face full of snow. "You'r not doing any of the hard work." With a grunt he pushed himself back onto his feet, retrieved his dropped spear and brushed himself off. At this rate i'll be exhausted before i find any game! he rubbed his face, and looked around, shielding his eyes from the glare. A small black silhouette stood out from the rest of the snow covered terrain and Jasha craned his neck to get a better look. "What'cha think that is Vas?" He murmured, squinting at the vaguely person shaped shadow. The dogs nose worked furiously in the air and with an excited bark he bounded ahead, running straight at the figure. "Vassi!" Jasha yelled, attempting to run after the dog through the think snow. Dammit! he thought in panic. What if he's mistaken for a wolf! His panic pushed him faster and he practically leapt through the snow. Panting he finally slowed to a stop and looked up to find Vassi, tail wagging and looking up at him curiously. Only a few meters behind him sat a sled, and on that sled was a young woman, rugged up in a fur jacket. "Uh..." Jasha scratched at the back of his head, suddenly realizing how insane he must look. "Good morning?" he offered, hoping he didn't look too crazy.

[Kalimalka]

"...Good morning yourself", the Kelvic intones carefully. Well, that was odd. She eyes the dog suspiciously, then back to the human. Since when have the gods taken her internal musings so literally? Since when did they listen to her internal musings at all? Not only that, but he might be insane. Charging after his dog, knee deep in snow, and sweating profusely like he is being pursued by an invisible Sabre cat. There is a faint trace of steam coming from the top of his head as the snow in his hair melts. Actually, his entire front seems to be covered. As if he had thrown himself down an embankment face first. She motions down his front with a bare hand snaked through the sleeve of her coat."You're caked in snow." Behold the power of my observational skills, she thinks dryly. Mind you, she can't be looking much better. Sitting in the basket of an empty sled in the middle of nowhere, with nigh a dog or driver in sight. "I hope your guys's hunt is going better than mine."