Silverlight Terrace snow thunder

he saw her wildness, then. her fear in her eyes. this feeling that he had tried so hard to help her with throughout their life; from when they had left napatukvik to when anaa had gone, and when aapa had said his goodbye as he sought nutuyikruk. over and over, he had been the anchor to try and keep her from slipping. he saw her now, slipping. he loathed the look on her face—and the twist in his gut that resulted.

so the boy tried to warm her with kisses to her face, bathing her with his tongue until she'd pull away. the cold was descending on the valley (not that he understood winter; only, when the winter-man had come, so seemingly had arrived this chill in the air).

lets go. he urged.

if she did not choose where, he would. but to stop was to die, and tautukpik wouldn't let that happen.