Bitterroot Valley silver loon

cat in the glacier, the musky scent stretched into the ice flats. yikaas did not stray close. he gave the cold world its berth and hunted down into the valley.

the caribou man had grown sinewy with hunger. summer hares and frequent ptarmigan were his meals, fatty but brief.

he had taught sulukinak the language of the cousin river and drawn her a map in icy mud. if she wished to leave, here was the way.

"sun clan. red raven moiety. tell them."

today, and now, yikaas hunted voles and crunched them among the grass, mind scheming always how to regain what had been captured from him.