Sequoia Coast [m] pineapple

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ravens had led him to an elk carcass.

even with help, it had taken him a day to haul back the bones for marrow, the antlers for chewing, and what remained of the meat.

but dancing fox was close. this flesh might be the difference between life and death. he sat in the entrance of the snow cave and watched the patterns of a heavy storm, the whorls of white as they scudded across the open land.

he sat that way for hours, staring, hardly movable and only sometimes able to be shaken from it.

such was one of those times, the dreamer flying from his body while Wolf whispered on the other side of his ears.