Journey

Her companion was keeping secrets. This came across to the silver-tipped Endore with crystalline clarity. She may have been ignorant to weather patterns and celestial phenomena, and much of nature's bounty in herbs and medicines was beyond her understanding, but Ptarmigan had a social gift. The words she said were often awkward or inappropriate, but that didn't mean the woman was inept, merely irresponsible. She picked up on others' hidden cues readily, but rarely commented on them, as was the case now. Whatever purpose Tuwawi had for agreeing with her about leaving packs despite the subtle weave of several wolves' scents in her auburn hair was the Creek wolf's business.

I would think we would have met a native by now if there was, she observed as the red-haired Sveijarn announced their arrival. They had indeed. The mountain was much closer now, and it was tall, dark, and handsome. It was unlike her expectation of mountains, lacking the harsh and sudden solidity of a more rugged peak. The ground still sloped kindly underfoot, and they trod on what she would call "basic grass" rather than rocks, even as they neared.

Much nicer than that other mountain, Ptarmigan said with a grin, casting her glance back over her shoulder at the distant Sunspire. The side facing the Rising Sun Valley was a kind and gentle slope... Though the other side of it, facing the riverlands, had always appeared less so.