Duskfire Glacier that if they do not move,

It was a night where her dreams were haunted by things of times past, of her father and the sons she had borne. The golden dove took to wandering the territory beneath the silver glow of Taqqiq's pale face, meandering from her denning site in the Caverns over the webbed, crackling planes of glacial ice -- glowing eerie blues and blacks in the dark like a gemstone composed of seawater, of Sedna's waters to the far north. 

Her aimless footsteps led her up to the fields of ice and drifting snow, blown and caught in the wind to dance across the empty expanse like the twisting, white forms of ghosts in the night. Imaq settled in the snow, waiting on curled haunches of wheaten gold with bated breath -- hoping.

The inua did not leave her waiting long as ribbons of electric green unfurled in a silent dance to match the snow -- twisting and curling through the sky. A gasp escaped the golden merle, rising to her paws though she had seen the dancing lights many times. Reverently, she fell into the traditional steps of her people's faith -- moving in a silent ballet with the lights of the spirits.