The Legend of Ataneq Nanuq

Bjarni cautiously approached the small unmoving figure lying face down across the sled, always conscious of the Siberian husky watching every move he made. Akiak offered a low growl from the old man’s side, signalling she was ready to defend her master no matter what. “Steady, girl, he’s not a threat; he just wants us to help his master,” Bjarni calmed her with a quick rub of her fur. He gently lifted the little frame into a sitting position, watching the big husky and talking soothingly to him with every slow movement. The head of the figure rolled forward, its chin resting on its chest at Bjarni’s movements. The fur hood slipped back and long, black hair drifted lazily onto the woman’s shoulders and tumbled to her waist. Her face had deep scratch marks running from her eye to her mouth and fresh blood trickled down her chin. He stooped down and placed his arms under the woman, ready to lift her off the sled. A low growl from the big husky warned Bjarni and he abandoned his attempts.

When injustice and fear collide, it has a name… Ataneq Nanuq.

A disturbing mystery.