Moonsong Glacier rises the moon

Kukutux — Valiant had heard of this woman. His cousin had insisted they go and visit her soon, but he had not yet been told why. A rebellious part of him wanted to make a poor first impression on her daughter just to throw a wrench in whatever machinations the panther had in mind. Vairë, however, probably did not deserve to be dragged into the middle of this.

"I never pass the chance," he reported, although of course, this was not the truth. It was only an answer to the gleam of mischief in her eyes — something he noted with an odd sense of relief. It was Moontide, he thought. The pallor of loss had been getting to him. He thought too often lately of the grief in his past.

He was interested to learn that this was not only the daughter of the pack leader, but the heir to her throne as well. Not that anyone he'd met this far carried themselves like royalty — he only wondered if Vairë had been chosen from birth, or if there was some aptitude she possessed that her sisters did not.

"I stand to inherit nothing," he told her. "But I will still accept bows and curtsies if anyone feels so inclined. Scraping and lamenting is where I draw the line — no matter how tempting one might find it."

The look he sent her way was stern for all of a moment before he broke into a small, sheepish smile.