Whitefish River things primordial

he did not surrender his search for atticus; he dipped himself into the task humbly, vying fiercely for blue willow's happiness even though he had been divested of his own. numbly he thought of his blackpelted demon, and the fiery gem who had stolen him — the season would soon be upon the land, and fox would conceive. the caldera would resound in the springtime with the sound of her children. his heart broke within him.

stifling the tears that threatened to betray his sorrow, lasher lifted his muzzle into the slight zephyrs that broke the growing chill. water was nearby, but he could not catch the scent of the swarthy wanderer. taltos wondered if atticus' head had returned to him, and if so, what had persuaded him to leave the safety and shelter of the plateau. surely it was not lack of attention from the willow! she who had given everything to pay service to her betrothed.

ears cupped forward in curiosity as his absent reverie was redirected by the sight of an oddly fragranced beast crouched over the waters. lasher drew to a halt, paws gripping the loam uncertainly — it was not a wolf, one of his brethren, and instinctively he bristled, though his gentler nature did not bring forth a growl into the air. he was merely silent, watchful.