Big Salmon Lake voice-bearer

Fjall listened raptly for the reply, his spine tingling in anticipation as he pressed his ears as far forward as they would go.

Bronte. Down in a small opening by the trees.

He scanned the treeline but the valley surrounding the water had grown too shadowy in the sunset to see the other wolf. Fjall howled back: “I cannot see you!” It would’ve been a laugh if they were speaking. “Can you see me? I am on a hill, here by the lake.”

His tail wagged as he paused to listen again, his heart fluttering anxiously. He didn’t realize how lonely he’d been in his desolate, one-track-minded searching. It only occurred to him now that he had not stopped to socialize or given himself any grace for every day that passed and he did not find his beloved.

“I would...” His song dipped uncertainly — afraid to even ask. “I would like to meet you.”