Hushed Willows Pacific

Njord’s patrol took him outside the borders.

A light snow fell. The wind was calm.

Though the weather was placid, Njord’s spirit was not. His nostrils flared, posture agitated. He looked out into the hazy dale and half-expected the brown bear, who had maimed his son, to show its ugly face. Or the dark man who was crass at their borders.

He thought of Sapphique's women. Of Meerkat. The willows reminded him of her.

Njord lifted a leg and marked his spot to leave a message: a man in his prime wandered here.