Heron Lake Plateau Letting all the shadows free.

Towhee's teeth began to chatter as the icy cold water slipped up and over her shoulders. Perhaps more emphatically than was strictly necessary, she began to kick her feet, moving away from the shore and toward the little island she called The Roost. She hadn't been there since before her trip to the caldera, fearing she wouldn't be able to make the swim with her bum leg. But as she glided through the water, she found it was really no problem. She swore she could even feel the tingling cold in that limb, though it wasn't long before everything was more or less numb.

She clambered onto the little archipelago, relief and triumph mingling. Quickly, Towhee shook the frigid moisture from her coat, then padded into the trees. She came to rest beside Orca's grave. After taking ten minutes to lick herself even dryer, Towhee slumped onto her belly and began to doze, happy to be home (and worn out from a patrol just prior to her swim).

She woke to a cold raindrop on the bridge of her muzzle. Judging by how stiff she felt, she'd been asleep for hours. Groaning, Towhee stretched and rose onto all fours. She stood there, blinking the sleep from her eyes and idly observing the dark October sky, when her orange gaze suddenly dropped to her left hind leg. The instant she realized she was putting weight on it, it began to quake wildly. Towhee eased off it. The feeling that shot through her when she realized she could sense the shift in weight was indescribable.