Wapun Meadow bloodgrand

at this the seal hunter gave a little snort; he finished his ministrations in good time and eyed his work before glancing back into dutch's face. "do you feel that, in the air?" the wind had changed and from oil father's throat now came particles of ice, to fling against their faces, their coats. "the long snows are not far off. we must go back. i will call out to these other packs, but — moonsong will be your healing."
he wanted home. he had gotten his prize and it would satisfy him. for now.