Moonsong Glacier say don’t go

The male had come most recently from Round Valley, which sat deep in the Land of Long Nights. Outside of the valley, the tundra seemed to stretch on for a lifetime on every side. These were the elk hunting grounds, where Valiant told him he had first cut his teeth. Dutch had hunted them now, too, but it was not what he had grown up with.

On the Spine, with not yet a year behind him, his parents taught him to hunt the bighorn sheep that scaled the craggy mountainside.

And with mountains so close at hand, the panther could not help but gravitate toward them. Let Valiant dip his paws into the ocean — Dutch wanted to climb.

To his frustration, he ran into another border before he reached his goal. In the foothills he tarried, wondering if he dared cross over without his hunting partner for backup. He was still weighing the risks when he realized he was not quite alone. Not far off stood a woman whose pelt reminded him of his tiny aunt, Lavender. The resemblance, however, seemed more and more superficial as he drifted closer.

"Shaanti ho," he called to her. "Peace be. Is this your mountain, cloud woman?"