Dawnlark Plains friends and liars dont wait for me

His journey continued.

With his skybound companion overhead, Aningan travelled farther from the direction he’d originally come. That home was so far away now hardly bothered him—how could it when he had no true ties there, those that were meant to be his family having never offered him much of anything, especially not their time—and whatever feelings of dread  did nag at him would fade without scarring. He could not think long on the glacier, nor when he might return, for a plan would ruin his adventure; he had no intentions of returning any time soon, of course, but even that he wouldn’t say aloud for fear of taking away from the mystery of his trek.

The farther they went, the more barren the earth became. There came to be an expanse of land on which he saw no trees, and thus stole a glance upwards at his friend. Did that bother her? Whether it did or not, she did not show it, using the land to her advantage instead as she hunted. Eventually, the owl went beyond his line of sight—not that Aningan noticed. Whilst she’d been hunting so skillfully, the child had taken to trying to pick out from the snow a meal for himself. This consisted of him hopping, pouncing, flailing, and falling—sometimes in that order, other times mixed around. At times, the way he jumped resembled a fox without grace, as he threw snow all around each and every time. It turned into a game eventually, with him flinging snow in every direction possible—and then it happened.

It was a game no longer.

As he came up again, there was a mouse trapped in his jaws, small and lifeless. Thrilled by his success, however tiny it was, Aningan completely missed the approaching woman.