Big Salmon Lake voice-bearer

There was a flutter in Fjall’s howl as he first recovered from the surprise that another voice had joined his in the air, then swayed his vocals to harmonize with the stranger. Sidelong, he attempted to locate the source, but they were not near enough yet for him to spy the other wolf from his perch.

His voice grew stronger as they sang, his melancholy translating to a musically slow and winding ballad that threaded through his singing partner’s voice.

When the wordless song came softly its natural end, Fjall lowered his muzzle and took a moment to catch his breath before howling again. This time, in words: “Your voice is very beautiful.” Another pause. “I am called Fjall.” He could only hope that they would bless him with theirs.