Duskfire Glacier that if they do not move,

Tupilak startled, having been absorbed in the slow steps of the undulating dance -- her lips whispering in the silent motions of songs that had gone unsung for years. She could remember the last time she had danced with the spirits but didn't wish to -- knowing it would only bring to mind the misplaced memories of Salik's Kalallit and dancing with the stepmother who had trained her as Angakkoq. It had always been Êrsta's desire that Imaq continue as the family's spiritual leader after the shaman herself grew old. 

But those desires had been waylaid by Salik's pride. Angakkoq could not be a touched woman, not in the way that Imaq had been made into a woman. Their clan's medicine woman was a mouthpiece for the spirits -- she could not be accursed as a girl-woman, could not be an affront to their eyes. 

But here she was not Angakkoq. She was only Imaq, a woman dancing alone in the snow. 

Until Rye that was. The shepherd halted, biting down on a rueful grin as her cracked gaze of seafoam and seawater dropped to the disturbed snow she'd riled. "Ah, hello again," the merle whispered shyly, stumped-rump giving a little happy spasm despite her embarrassment at having been caught. "Are you alright?"

It was rather late. She couldn't help but wonder if something was wrong for the woodland agouti to be up -- even though she was awake and roaming at this hour as well.