Moonsong Glacier annun ⤟

Fjall wasn’t sure what to make of a gentle call for him that did not come from Ariadne. The voice of Chakliux, or even Kannoyak, also could have been expected, but this song was not one he knew. Still, he hurried after the sound, his heart aflutter.

The sunkissed boy stopped short when she came into view: eyes like malachite gemstones and a foxfur boa upon slim shoulders. A moon-pale queen. The matriarch of the moonpacks. Though he had never set adult eyes upon her, he knew from all that he had been told that this must be her.

The wolf his mother spoke of, even when she could not quite remember who she was.

A gulp of air, an uncertain step forward; Fjall faltered in immediately closing the distance but did so anyway on tentative paws. He came to stand before her speechlessly, lowering his head to the small wolf, his ears falling shyly back upon his crown. He had no words, though seemed keenly aware of who she was and looked somewhat ashamed of his inability to speak.