For three days, Cristina and I joined a group of Inuit hunters on their way to secure food for their community. I’ll never forget the intensity of the sled team, the texture of the thin sea ice, and the sheer scale of the mountains that scraped the sky as we approached the floe edge, where I took this image just 600 miles (970 km) shy of the North Pole. In that fleeting window of time, I fell in love with the packs of unruly sled dogs charged with hauling us safely over the ice. Born to roam the Arctic’s frozen wilds, the dogs had a raw kind of power and energy to them, heeding only the call of their musher.

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