[How?]

Turok pulls off his thick sheepwool mittens and runs his hands around the band in both directions.
The mutes catch on what he's trying to do, and squeeze in beside him, lifting the beast's head so the Shaman can reach the full way round.
It is one piece.

Last edited by Iron Ranger (8/12/2025 4:55 pm)

They look confused at first  but they pull the massive head down baring the neck to  the shaman.

Turok's eyes flitter open. The mutes hover inches over his face, relief washing onto their faces as the shaman looks back and forth between them. Each grabs a shoulder and slowly lifts him to a sitting position. They are half a dozen feet away from the carcass.

Turok looks to the carcass. The band and box remain.
He feels heat in his hands.

The trail of prints the group has been following ends at the carcass.
The drift is too deep to continue past it without digging tools or snowshoes.
They wave the shaman off and head back toward the church entrance to reassess.


 

As the worm lowers its toothed maw back to the floor, Tillak suddenly convulses, sending his pack and pick skittering across the stone. When the seizure is still, unconscious mutterings in his esquimeaux tongue come in broken groans.

Last edited by Iron Ranger (8/15/2025 8:31 am)

Caveman wrote:

Narrhil rushes to his stricken comrade, he can speak Esquimaux, and hoped to hear his words, and also hoping the man was reviving; and returning to him.

Broken gibberish. A child calling a reindeer... 

It really seemed like he was about to come back to consciousness  for a second there. Narrhil keeps the faith a moment longer?