Redtail Rise pilgrim

I am the wind in our hair!

I am the heartbeat in our chest!

We are alive!

The wild girl ran across the snow crust taiga beneath a thin sliver of crescent moon.

Home.

She thinks of her family. Her pack.

She has chased the herds of elk. Followed the snowshoe hair. Stalked the partridge.

Her body is lean and corded. Not an ounce of fat remained. Yet her expression is bright and vibrant. She smelled of the tundra; of pine and loam.

A little fall of snow. The wind guides her back! Yes… she can sense them!

Moon Runner howled.

image from wolf's rain