Neverwinter Forest kiiksiugun ⊎

The boy was respectful, remaining close to his grandmother so that she did not worry about the others. His eyes were wide as she spoke her story to him, of a woman who had loved a man of ice. In the swirling power of his young imagination, he saw the man - cut from a glacier with piercing eyes. The sharpness of his muscles, the frigidity of his stare. He was ice itself.

The story shifted and so did Pan, moving his paws in a nervous way. Grandfather had married this woman after the ice man? He did not understand. Love to him was eternal. It did not shift or fade or fall away from the hearts it possessed. The woman in the story seemed to have found joy. This was all that mattered. For a time, Pan wondered about Fjall and where the child was, if they were happy, if they knew the love of their mother. He thought of his own mother, too. Sadness crept in to his young heart. He wished that he could hear Samani’s stories the way Moonwoman shared hers.

When his mouth parted to ask about the puppy, he was cut short.

A cry from the forest. Grandfather’s voice howling out in agony. It did not end. The scream of pain so white hot that he could feel it against his flesh, driving into his heart.

Pan’s ears fell flat to his head. The jade green of his eyes shifted to Kukutux. They couldn’t sit and wait any longer, could they?

Grandpa… he whispered, looking through the trees with a faraway stare.