Swiftcurrent Creek Hey December, guess I'm feeling unmoored.

She was a skinny and long-legged thing, the youth who trod along toward him. Viinturuth shifted his head to regard her with lazy curiosity, the pallid furs of his cheek ruffled against an elbow. His brother's brood were hardly babes but not quite yearlings, he'd learned. His was the only litter born to Swiftcurrent in the Springtime, he recalled from his brother's update, and there'd been only one girl among them.

You must be Mae, the white wolf observed, raising his head to shoot the adolescent a tentative smile. Her wild obsidian pelage and sterling gaze were reminiscent of her aunt Talos, and Viinturuth felt an immediate fondness as he wondered if Mae might compare to his sister in more ways than her palette.

He rose his head, keen to shed the weight of his woes and make an effort to start off right with Mae. My name's Viinturuth. Your dad and I are brothers.