this life does not end with death, there is a journey left to make;
ancestors watch over us and guide the path we take
At the very core of this land was a strangeness, an unnaturalness that had driven Iluq back and away from it. He'd come across borders marked by wolves far past the age of reason to lead a pack, found a wolf dead - killed - with clear signs that it had been cannibalized (a practice not unheard of on the tundra, but only when prey was scarce - and prey was abundant here), and witnessed the unending stream of wolves that traveled through the lands. It had unsettled him, and he had never made it further south than the woodlands that bordered the vast fields surrounding a lake. He'd gone north again, retreating from this place of overabundance in search of more favorable conditions within which to exist. To complete the most primal of urges - to pair with a female and start their own pack, each generation of pups lending their strength to the hunt.

Unfortunately things did not go as planned. And with each passing year the desire copulate and lead his own pack waned - this was a younger wolf's business, and though Iluq was still strong and in the prime of his life, he would no longer have the time to build a foundation with multiple litters. Yet, there had been a shewolf, one who had drawn his eye and captured his attention. A female who lived in that land of vast overpopulation and totally unnatural existences. So, against all odds, he had returned, searching for her. Perhaps a last effort to secure his own future in the life of his offspring.

She had smelled of wide open spaces, of tall grasses and even a tinge of saltiness. Thus, he pressed through the northern forests and found himself roaming the vast expanse of the fields. He traveled with his head slung low, sniffing the grasses. But there was so much, too many scents, this place thick with the passage of far too many wolves for him to distinguish one from another. Iluq's nose wrinkled, flooded with so many aromas that it made him feel ill. Lifting his head, he glanced around him, and pale eyes found the glistening body of water in the distance. He snorted, trying to clear his nostrils, but finding himself unsuccessful took off at a slow lope across the fields towards the lake. Reaching its banks, he waded in up until three of four ankles were submerged, then dipped his head to lap at the cool refreshment. After a moment, he plunged his snout underwater, blowing out through his nostrils, trying to flush the pungent odor of so many wolves from him.

ILUQ