The Sunspire [m] blue spiral

One day, Calahan promised himself, one day he was liable to climb till the summit. But not now. Not when the outlaw's unfortunate leg still occasionally ached from his slip on the glacier. How many months ago was that? Had to be at least three, he wasn't sure. The days had began to blur into routines of exploration, while he still fell back to Whitefish River for respite and rest.

The heat had created a sickening torridity at this ungodly hour. The tawny man wasn't sure exactly why he trailed the burning scent of the prairie wolf, catching a glimpse of her rust toned coat. Autumn, he christened her. Careful not to overstep, he greeted her with an unsure wave of his tail, muttering a greeting. "Howdy..."