Moonsong Glacier through the fog of an early morn

His mind was slow to unfog until pain sharpened it. His flank twitched like a horse shaking off flies.

"Gently, bachchee," he huffed, but his tail gave a grateful few thumps all the same. It was her care that thawed him, which made him worry it was dark magicks poisoning the wound. He decided that he was too strong for even this to take him down, though, and resolved to ask about it the next time he saw a spiritual healer.

He shifted, hoping to head off more of her tender care at the pass — or at least direct it away from his wound. Now they lay side-by-side instead of yin-yang, and the panther could see Sulukinak's face just a little better through the dark. The solemn red glow of her eyes brought him the usual mixture of comfort and melancholy.

"Are you happy here, bachchee?" he wondered. "Staying with me?"