Kintla Flatlands sang myself to sleep last night

The winter air was cool and quiet all around him. Valiant sat and absorbed it, feeling more and more at peace despite a growing sense of melancholy. No matter how many excuses he made, he knew he would never forgive himself if he gave up trying to find his siblings. As much as he wanted to settle down, and to try and court Vairë if she would have him, he knew he had to find his siblings first. At least one of them.

The isbjørn stood with a soft little sigh. He would have to tell Kukutux right away. But when he turned, he found himself watching a pale, ghostly figure in the distance. His pulse quickened. Valiant moved forward as if in a dream.

"Minnow," he said, but of course she could not hear him. "Minnow," he repeated, the hoarse word carrying across the cold plains. His steady gait turned into a trot and then a numb-footed jog as he hurried to catch up.