Moonsong Glacier isha

A silent figure of sunset and fire came to mark the borders in turn. Many things turned about in his head, but his face was a narrow bullet in its determination. 

Sniff, search, mark, repeat.

A man of glacier frost and evergreen, hints of wildflowers within his fur. He was Fallen Sun, sunset man, Rabbit - he went by many names and in turn gave many to those his tongue couldn't pronounce. 

Sniff, search, mark, repeat.

Today, he marked the borders, busy as a beehive in newspring.