Moonsong Glacier the wayward weeping voices that you will hear

Dirge hadn't planned on going out so far, but the weather was far too inviting. Clouds were moving in again and he didn't dare squander fleeting rays of sunshine, though admittedly leaving was a task in itself. He found the absence of @Hydra to pick at him when they had been so inseparable, yet the thick cord of tension that circled Moonspear gave him plenty of reasons to wander a smidge. A short day trip, nothing out of the ordinary. With the beginning of the end in regards to Hydra's estrus, he did not worry that she would stray. Of course, if she did... well, then she did, but he doubted such a thing would happen.

Still, it was left to nag at him, somewhere at the back of his mind as he began to work his way along the fine edge of the old glacier. A herd he had been tracking had gotten away from him, plunging towards the weald which proved curious in itself, and claimed. Whoever had set up shop there seemed to be having a better go of things than he had ever had there and it too in part drove him eastward away from its fringes.

Curious yet was the slab of old ice and snow left to linger, a constant that had once served a backdrop to his wanderings a year ago. It was warmer now but the nights still dipped, the dampness a burden more than friend as he scaled onto the flow with the aid of stones. His nose crossed over loose hairs left behind by another, but any trace of who it had been was lost; the fur was old and weathered, and of little consequence. He turned a semi-circle on his vantage point, eyes squinting against the contrast of greening earth and vivid sky, and tried to see the coast.