Bearclaw Valley a seal on the subject

She had been wandering when the call raised.

It was enough to give her pause as swiftly other voices joined in, each with a distinct melody of their own. Phoebe felt the pull to join them but had restraint; to hear them, to know that they were altogether and seemingly whole had a moving effect on her. These were not the distant voices she had heard singing on cold nights in the thick of winter. It filled her with something she had been deprived of for some time of her own accord—hope, comfort.

She rallied to them, her own voice then picking up to ring off not-so-distant rocky walls.