Ocean's Breath Plateau But it's the season of the sticks.

fatherhood had not endowed cen with any instinct to indulge the boy or otherwise play with him. it was only self-preservation which kept the caribou man from punting the pup and his oyster into the nearest lodge, awareness that the moontide wolves would kill him for it.

tensing as the seal hunter child invaded his space, cen tapped the shell roughly. "not food. a rock."