Bearclaw Valley we rush the west in silence

He closed the space between them, and prodded forth his nose like a snake would his tongue to taste the air. Yet his body spoke of innocence, and Nanook did not move. She let him sate his curiousity, for in letting him do, he lent her the opportunity to do the same. A deep inhale brought the wealth of his travels to the canvas of her mind. He was earthy and wild, and bound by nothing but the forests and stones and hills. A wolf like her. She felt the ice in her veins drip to meltwater, and she watched him with growing wonder through the drive of the rain.

Who was this boy, feral and speechless?

Over the clamber of a distant rumble, his note met her ears, and he drew her back with a thrill. Nanook turned her head, and blinked, part in question, and part from the water that caressed the sharp curves of her forehead and dripped into her eyes. She took a small step toward him, and another until she drew her snout near the side of his, and cast him a side-long glance. She didn't know what to make of him - but the rage of the river and the drive of the rain told her they couldn't stay in the lowlands any longer.

She reached out to nudge him, then jumped back, and swung her head low as she gave a questioning note of her own. Come? Nanook wished to stay with him, but only if he followed her to somewhere safer than here.