[img]https://i.imgur.com/jQ6Io79.png[/img]
[center][h2]Nuqtuq[/h2][/center]

[color=9A7C6B]“Why,”[/color] sobbed the child, [color=9A7C6B]“Why Ma?”[/color]

Pain lined the features of Qriqic, the elder centaur, deeply as he held the little centaur close. They lay alongside each other upon on the mossy ground, which was latticed by melting snow, glittering in the light of a midday sun. With a deep sigh he replied, [color=B99999]“Because Hvicy, ice changed."[/color] 

Despite how brisk and curt the manner of his speech, Qriqic's words were offered gently as he expanded, [color=B99999]"Was soft, that ice. Not how it been,”[/color] he shook his head slowly, [color=B99999]“Not how before.”[/color]

Hvicy buried his head into the wooly white fur of the older centaur’s arms, which were already soaked with tears, as he lapsed into inconsolable wailing. Through his sobs as his heart continued to break, Hvicy asked the elder, over and over again, [color=9A7C6B]“Why?”[/color] 

	He begged and pleaded, his hands pounding against the elder’s back and chest, as a chill wind blew. 

Qriqic winced slightly as Hvicy’s little horns, which had only just began to cut through his brow, dug into his side, but he knew it was a pain he could bear. What he struggled to bear however, was the weight of the questions and the pain in Hvicy's voice. 

	Why [i]had[/i] the ice been so soft?

For moons now, many hunters had reported the ice breaking in places that it shouldn’t have. They’d reported whole shelves of it falling off of the high ice cliffs, while massive frozen mountains slid into the sea to drift alone, as huge sheets along the coast kept separating from the flat lands. Groans and moans of the frozen land echoed across the shifting snow each day as the ice underwent an abnormal transformation.

	This was something that even the eldest of the Nuqtuq could not explain.

		And Hvicy was not alone in his sorrow.

Some of the best places to hunt were along the ice where it met the sea. There, they could stalk and kill those great beasts which lounged and lazed atop the ice. The mighty Walrus, whose bodies were a blessing for oil, meat, bones, and many other materials, were their easiest and primary prey. When the snow ran high, while leaves fell from their few trees and the ice captured the little land they inhabited far to the east, the Nuqtuq depended on the hunting at the edge of the sea. 

	But lately there had been increasing disappearances where the hunting had been best.

Hunters reported others vanishing for multiple nights before one finally witnessed it in person.

	[color=B4B7BC]“Ice opened up. Pulled him down. Closed on top,”[/color] came one story.
		[color=E0E1C9]“Hard ice twisted him in,”[/color] reported another.
[color=DFC8C8]“Moved like thaw. Was not thaw time. Snow came down,”[/color] said a different party.

So when it came time that the hard snow halted and the sky warmed again; that the Walrus left for their time and the young of wild game would be ambling about the west, the Nuqtuq launched an investigation. 

While it was true that they needed to go west anyway, to find those great brown beasts with their massive antlers, for they were easier for lots of meat during the sky warm, those hunters that went west were also given the task of questioning the ice.

To question the ice meant walking it, learning it, figuring out what new things it had to tell. 
	Were there new fissures and holes? Had the makeup of the shore shifted? Did those noisy seals change their hunting or migration paths? They considered asking the Tup’wik people down further West about the changes, but they were odd and talked too much while saying too little. 

		Those people didn’t know the ice like the Nuqtuq did- those people were afraid of it.

Besides, they hadn’t seen the Tup’wik in more time than any of them knew. 
	How many heavy snows had passed since last seeing them?
		Far, far more than could be recalled. 

	Not a single elder had parents that knew the Tup'wik.

	All the hunters knew the task of asking the ice was dangerous but necessary. So each time a hunting party went out, those who spoke to the ice the best threw themselves into the task. They taught the others, questioned the ice, and brought back Moose when they could- but Moose were also becoming difficult to hunt, so they said.

Ice which lead toward the land of evergreen trees was broken so much that they often couldn’t make it to the shore the old ways. New paths had to be made and even those kept sliding into the sea, as ice which never melted before broke off to drift and disappear.

Then one day, a hunting party came back that said their hunting route had slid into the sea completely.

	With them on it.

		An entire segment of the glacial cliff-face had broken off beneath their feet.

	[color=9A8D72]“Ice screamed- angry- ate the sled. Hunters all ate with it,”[/color] the two survivors of the eight reported upon their return. They were both half starved and covered in Frost Rot by the time they made it back to Nuqtuq. They had to paddle a bit of ice they’d been stranded on back to the shore, then walk, with nothing but a block of pemmicin to share between them, for the long six nights it took them to hike back. 

	One of them died nights after returning, as the Frost Rot from her hands claimed her arms and body with Hot Blood, and the Dark Cough... 

[hr]

[color=9A7C6B]“Not there,”[/color] shouted Hvicy before clicking high then low, with his mouth, so that the others knew to back away from their advance. Gently he tapped a hoof upon the ice, then shook his head, turning around to the others. He gave them two head tilts, then a whistle, and they all began to move. Together the Hunters backed away, retracing their steps with practiced precision. Several strides later and with a sharp turn right, they marched further north, and away from danger.

A Kinnaras with a particularly fluffy head of white woolen hair, which barely fit beneath the hood of his sealskin parka, whistled lowly toward Hvicy to ask for explanation.

[color=9A7C6B]“Light blue ice- hollow sound- sharp light on top,”[/color] returned Hvicy, with a head tilt of seeking confirmation.

Two shrill whistles came from Qriqic, who lead at the head of the group with their sled- the sound signaled confirmation and agreement with Hvicy’s assessment. Beneath his hide face covering, Hvicy grinned widely, then bobbed his head up and down in pride- the light catching his dark horns in a showy manner. 

Rather aggressively, the Kinnaras flashed his horns in the same nodding motion, making a snort of friendly antagonism back.

Hvicy laughed slightly then asked, [color=9A7C6B]“Kopq- Jealous?”[/color] 

	[color=999972]“No. You hunt like blind. My harpoon better,”[/color] returned Kopq, flashing his horns once more, [color=999972]“Hvicy. Talk to ice too much.”[/color]

	It was true, Hvicy had to admit inwardly, but he also told himself that he couldn’t help it. 

Since the death of his Ma, the crippling of his Da, and the loss of many more hunters between then and when his horns cut in full, Hvicy had devoted himself to the ice. Questioning it, walking it, to know it deeply and fully, Hvicy went as often as he could onto the ice. As the moons and nights turned him from a boy into a young man, he spent more time speaking with the ice than with others- or so the joke went. 

	When he should have been focused on pulling the sled, Hvicy was talking to the ice.
	When he was needed to circle after a Walrus, to help antagonize it into isolation from its main pot, he was listening to the ice.

As Kopq, his bond-kin, was carving his own harpoon to throw, Hvicy had been with the ice and the ice alone.

	Yet he was an excellent guide across the ice, when it came time for hunting Moose again, so very few gave him true antagonism or ill words for his lack of skill elsewhere. With Hvicy in the Hunt party, no one was lost to the ice. Not once.

	A voice called out, [color=BBB09A]“Hvicy! Open eyes?”[/color]

And he lowered his horns then, deflating at the question. It was teasing and reminder both from Pngna, the human woman that rode astride Qriqic’s back. A few soft snickers followed from the other hunters- this was the extent of said antagonism, truly, and Hvicy knew it wasn't uncalled for.

Not once had Hvicy’s thrown harpoon, the one he’d carved himself, actually struck a target he aimed at. 

Rather enthusiastically, he always threw it, because it was what a good hunter did! He wanted to be as good a hunter as his Ma had been, because he’d lived through how sorely her skills were missed. As many times as he’d gone out to talk to the ice, he’d thrown his harpoon, but it had missed just as much. Numerous hunters, from elders to those in his age group, had instructed and directed Hvicy. A few had even scrutinized his harpoon: Had he carved it wrong when he came of age? Was the wood crooked or unbalanced? Had the wrong kind of wood been used? It was best to use it themselves- to test it on his behalf and see-

	And every other hunter struck beasts with it effortlessly.
		Clearly, the problem was elsewhere.

		[color=9A7C6B]“Today,”[/color] Hvicy mumbled into his hood with little confidence, as he’d said every other time since the taunt had been established, far too many moons and sky warms ago.

	[color=B99999]“Today,”[/color] echoed Qriqic, as confident in him as ever.

It pained Hvicy to hear. 

That was the man that taught him everything about hunting, taught him to throw his harpoon even, but Hvicy could never hit a target. Though Qirqic never expressed disappointment or resentment for him, Hvicy couldn’t help but feel he had earned at least a little by now, especially since Kopq- another student of the elder Qirqic- had been doing so well...

[hr]

Eventually, they came upon a ring in the ice. 

	Constructed from bricks, made of compacted ice and snow, and encircled by a multitude of antlers, the ring was a wall which stood higher than a Human standing upon a Centaur’s shoulders. Though there was no roof, for there was no need of one, as the place was the Nuqtuq in which they like every hunter before them, made camp for the hunting of moose. From here the towering evergreens of the nearby taiga could be seen. Some small shrubs and those few tundra transition plants were plentiful nearby too, and would make for great berry foraging later.

As the party passed beneath the massive Whale-bone arches, which acted as landmark and gate, they spread out to assess the condition of the Nuqtuq.

Despite the fact that snow came in, it had thawed enough, so that the few amenities were easily re-carved. A large slab of shaped ice, which had become quite hard over time and from multiple uses, sat to one side of the Nuqtuq, and it was red from its purpose. This long table had been used for years to dress down various game and prepare fish, before their long sled transport back to Nuqtuq.

Preparation of the camp involved re-carving the table, clearing out whatever snow they could, and repacking holes that may have melted into the ice walls. Hard work went into crafting a new wooden door for the gate, using materials they’d pushed out from Nuqtuq, especially since bears had been a problem here in the past. It took time uncounted and the majority of the hunting party was exhausted, by the time the gate was finally complete, but a watch needed to be set out despite it. 

	Gates were nice but would never be as good as a person watching.

Unfortunately for the watchers, this often meant a lot of standing around, and a lot of boredom.

	Many nights had passed staying in the Nuqtuq, as hunts were performed during the dark dawn, and watches were set up by afternoon and night. So few moose had made their way north, that some of the hunters were getting concerned. Was that Burning Scar to the south the reason the Moose had been scarce? Everyone could see the smoke during the day and the red glow of it on the horizon at night had been disconcerting. What happened down there?

But the Nuqtuq had come blame the burning scar, concluding that it was the reason for the ice being too soft along these hunting grounds, because the waters had grown far warmer than before. The adjustment had been made some time ago to stick to the harder ice during Moose hunt, so that further deaths could be avoided, yet the sea continued to warm and the ice continued to change. Much of the old paths had melted into the sea rapidly over tome, so it was that the young like Hvicy, were of more value for speaking with the ice.

	They were the ones that knew this new ice and all its new paths. 

But there were still so few that knew the creatures of the land and how they’d changed their paths, due to the Burning Scar. Moose had proven to be unpredictable at first but the Nuqtuq had found a slight way to change that, some time ago. It had taken many thaws but the Nuqtuq were the sole reason why so many berries grew so close to the ice here. Growing them was working for the Nuqtuq back home so of course it could work for the ground where the taiga met the ice here too- for it was precisely like their lands far to the east.


Sometimes the moose would come by, more frequently the bears would be scavenging but, other times there was nothing but coming back to the Nuqtuq empty handed...

[hr]

	And a lot of standing watch.
		A whole lot of standing watch.

	As the ice turned purple and gold with the early hints of sunset, a snowball soared cleanly through the points on a set of caribou horns, which decorated the high wall of the Nuqtuq.

	[color=9A7C6B]“Two,”[/color] Hvicy chuffed in a self congratulatory fashion.
		[color=999972]“Hvicy? Better at snow-toss. Not Harpoon,”[/color] snickered Kopq, as he watched, impressed.

Together they continued walking the perimeter of the Nuqtuq, if only to keep themselves warm. This was a game everyone liked to play during the watch- see who could throw snowballs through the points on antlers and horns which decorated the wall. The more difficult the throw was, the more “points” it counted for. Elders liked to tell the story whenever they played this game to those younger, about the living shadows which once lived with the Nuqtuq when they ways were young- they had taught them how to count and what numbers meant back then. 

	They always spoke of the Umbra fondly but every story about them ended with, “But sun melted them.”

Kopq threw his snowball through a set of points on a massive moose rack, which passed through a second set of caribou points, and he laughed aloud, [color=999972]“Four! Hvicy, see?”[/color]

But Hvicy’s eyes were turned in the opposite direction.
	[color=9A7C6B]“Moose- Kopq,”[/color] he clicked twice then nodded forward. 
Turning to stare toward where Hvicy indicated, Kopq made an uncertain grunt. 

Together they stared across the ice, were the white line of ice shelf met a backdrop of evergreen forest. A breeze swept loose snow up into a sparkling powder. Kopq made another uncertain grunt just as two ivory points, curved and crooked, broke their line of sight with the forest.

	Hvicy clicked then whistled sharply, shifting the position of his harpoon from his side, to being tucked beneath his arm. 

	Looking up at him Kopq asked, with an edge of excitement to his voice, [color=999972]“Us. Alone?”[/color]

Rousing another hunter would take time and the others had settled to sleep a while ago. Elders often took the opportunity to kill any stray game that wandered too closely anyway, especially if they knew it wouldn’t lead them too far from the Nuqtuq, while they were on watch. 

	It was with this reasoning that Hvicy sucked his teeth rapidly in enthusiastic agreement, whilst pawing the ground with his front hoof eagerly. If they could down the Moose, then dragging the carcass back to the Nuqtuq could wait while they doubled back and roused hunters- if bears didn’t come out when smelling the blood of course- but that wasn’t going to happen, surely!

	Presenting his back to Kopq, Hvicy kept his eyes toward where the Moose antlers had shown, while flashing his own horns eagerly, waiting for his kin to climb aboard.

Kopq grunted in disagreement, before picking up a jog toward the moose, [color=999972]“Too heavy together. Hvicy, be swift. Open eyes!”[/color]
	
	And Hvicy felt the encouragement in a heated rush. In silent gratitude and joy both, Hvicy picked up speed sharply- in the way that only a Nuqtuq Centaur could. Due to the harsh conditions in the Northern climates, their bodies had changed, as Kinnaras, Human, and Centaur each found a place within their tribe- a place that utilized their strengths as a team. Their bodies had adapted as a result of years filling their particular positions in the Nuqtuq.

	A Nuqtuq Centaur was now distinct for being a head or two shorter than the typical Centaur. Their bodies were more compact, lighter, but this gave them speed that outpaced most other Centaur, especially from a single point burst. Though maintaining their speeds through deep snow was a bit of a challenge, their legs could still carve through it with nearly the same ease as a Moose, and they scarcely acknowledged the cold of wind speed, due to their thick woolly fur.

	And the wind rushed loudly in Hvicy’s ears as he sprinted forward- his eyes locked on the reappearance of the Moose’s antlers. Good! They were still where he’d seen them. To harpoon a Moose meant getting closer, quickly, then slowing down before it perceived a threat. He came within a good position, sliding down to a halt, as he palmed his throwing harpoon, balancing the weight upon his shoulder. Hvicy’s eyes watched the Moose’s points dip, then reappear once more- he squinted to observe their orientation.

	Which way is it facing?

As they turned, Hvicy felt another rush of panic- had it heard him? Why was it turning away?

	And then the Moose’s pace picked up- No.
		[b]NO![/b]

This was his chance, he could do it alone- he had to get it now- Hvicy couldn’t suffer another miss.
	Oh [i]no[/i].
		It was getting further away and his hand shook as the grip upon his harpoon tightened. He needed to get the angle right- the wind had stopped blowing- everything was perfect- this should be the one, it should, it should, IT [b]HAD[/b] to be the one-
	A fearful glance was cast back- Kopq was nearing him- perhaps he should be the one to- no.

			[i][b]NO![/b][/i] 
		He couldn’t keep relying on Kopq to do the difficult throws for him- he wasn’t going to mess up in front of him either- not anymore- not this time-

	His eyes were [i]OPEN![/i]

Leaning back on his hind quarters, Hvicy felt the back of his harpoon brush the ground as he cocked his arm back, his free arm casting before him, straight out to track the target. All at once he took his burst sprint forward, leapt, then HURLED the harpoon directly toward the sight- angled to strike the back of the Moose’s neck. 

	Air whistled sharply- Hvicy’s hooves planted atop the icy ground- and he half-doubled over with the follow-through, turning about on his hooves to resolve the powerful motion.

	Kopq made a sound of wordless cheer for Hvicy as he saw the harpoon fly.

Together, they heard the Moose call out as it had been struck. 

	Together, they ran toward the edge of the ice sheet, to stare down at the Moose that had been struck below.

		Together, they realized that what was bleeding out on the ice below, was not a moose at all.

	Wailing.
		Wailing on the ice below was a moose horned Centaur. His blood painted the ice red.

[hider=Summary]
Intro for the Nuqtuq tribe in the FAR North-Eastern Glaciers. 
They are a tribe composed of Human, Centaur, and Kinnaras.
Centaur and Kinnaras are covered in white woolly fur and have brown skin. They have grown forward facing Buffalo horns. Their stature is compact and shorter than other Centaur and Kinnaras. Humans of the tribe have acute vision and narrow eyes. The Nuqtuq are from Nuqtuq and migrate to Nuqtuq during the warm month hunting season. 

Story: A Centaur child weeps after their parents died, due to the rapid warming and breaking of the glacial ice, because of the warming of all the northern oceans, after the creation of the Molten Sea. That child grows up to be a hunter. That hunter accidentally harpoons a Centaur with Moose Horns. 

[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5392840](Prequel for the Tup'wik story.)[/url][/hider]