Ocean's Breath Plateau My hair is the color of cheetos right now, and I will take no questions.

It had not occurred to Raiyuk that he should perhaps go south, only north. Sometimes leaning easterly, but not for long periods. He wondered now what southlands lay unexplored to the seal-hunter people! What might he find there? What sort of others? Maybe there were more fish and seal-pelts that way, but Moontide would not know of it; perhaps his father, too, was ignorant. It would be thrilling to bring something home that wasn't so commonplace. Impressive.

—are you here to stay? The elder asked.

Yes, he said. Even so, Raiyuk felt a tugging in his heart, like an ache, or maybe a fluttering. A skipped beat. Well, already he was unsure! Backtracking. It depends, I suppose, on whether I am needed here. He gave a shrug.

I would stay if my father needed help with his lodge. I do not expect him to need me, though. He has his wives, and uncle Dutch, and all of Moontide. It wasn't like Raiyuk to wax poetic about his place in the world, and he did not mean to sound dejected now, but there was an edge to his words—thankful as he was for his large family, he knew in the spring it was likely to grow ever larger, and as firstborn there might have been an expectation of himself, but he felt very little kept him rooted here.

I would like to know the south, now that you speak of it. Maybe one day.