Moonsong Glacier Snowdrops

Dutch was quiet even as he drew near, caught up in her eyes for a long moment. He had not done well by her — or by anyone else, in his estimation. But her reserved demeanor was a reminder of all that he had promised, and all that he had failed to provide.

He touched his nose to her cheek in greeting.

"It is good to see your face," he said, his own tail waving in confirmation of this fact. His expression showed, however, that there was much more on his mind. His burnished gaze flicked back and forth over her face, searching for something he could not name. He knew, though, that he could feel the steady shift of the stars like eyes on the back of his neck.

"I am done, I think, being chief in this place," he told her, casting his gaze to their paws when it became too hard to keep looking at her pretty face. "It has not brought me happiness. I do not think it has brought anyone happiness."

The words were free of bitterness, and there were only traces of shame and sadness in the pensive set of his features. He watched her again, though, and his eyes tightened a fraction in concern.

"And I have not been a very good friend to you," he told her. "But I would like to be better now. I would like to do many things differently."

His voice was quiet and imploring when he asked her, "Tell me how you are."