Swiftcurrent Creek in remembrance

Since Tuwawi had returned from her adventure in to the north, they took turns with the children. Marching away from the den caused a peculiar sensation to dwell within Njal - something like apprehension, coupled with a dose of sorrow. He walked familiar paths, followed the route he had carved over many days of patrols, and followed the river's edge. His task this morning was to seek out a cache or something for the children to eat. They were transitioning to solid foods, leaving behind their mother's milk.

While he did pause above a few of these caches, Njal's attention waned and drifted; he wandered more than hunted, and came to a halt on the bank of the river. Beside him sat Lethe's Rest. He passed a cursory glance across the rugged figure of the bear that he had formed out of rocks, noticing that it had become moss-covered and vibrant with green. Around him there was quiet - or something close to quiet, where the pulse of the river and the occasional birdsong sounded across the fields. To think that he had survived the loss of not one Alpha, but two - but there was guilt in his heart now. A strong and passionate guilt that turned his gaze sour.