Totoka River Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now

It was good to have a task. Something to focus on, something to lose herself in. Storm carved herself a path round the territory's perimeter, staking the outskirts of Hokulani's new claim through obsessive repetition.

Easier to drown herself in this than face the cold, stark fact of her grief. The way it lingered, the way it ached. It'd almost been easier when the wound was fresh, when it bled constantly and she could think of nothing but what she'd lost. Things were different now. The hurt lingered like a background note to every thought, every feeling, and somehow that was worse. She couldn't even make herself cry about it anymore.

So she marked borders. It didn't matter that her leg was beginning to throb, or that her stomach was tight with hunger. All that mattered was that she didn't think about what she'd lost.

the riverside welcomed him as readily as any other place — what sunlight there was seemed to lack any warmth, and while the cold of the northland had not come far enough to freeze it yet, kigipigak expected the totoka would not stay fluid for long. winter was on its way, and he appeared to travel on the leading edge of it.

as he meandered he came upon a marking — something moderately fresh, and as rare as it felt to find another of his kind these days, kigipigak grew wary. he paused long enough to survey up one side of the river with his eyes, and then turned to do the same in another direction; but he didn't see anyone, not yet.

caution brought vigilance, but an eagerness to have company made him take more of a risk, as he found some shallows and crossed to the other side where the scents were stronger.