Bearclaw Valley saw death on a sunny snow

what if i told you i'm crying .. sobbing, even .. weeping ...

the snowwoman knew that tvar was not selfish for wanting to be loved wholly. if she had them both, could she even promise that she would love them equally? in the same way? he moves away from her, then, and she meets his gaze quickly. the pain within his bright, blue eyes, within his heart ... it is palpable, just as hers is. tvar, she murmured, wishing for him not to go, and yet he had already turned. already, she had pushed him away.

and so with wide, dawn-hued eyes nanuralaaq watched him go, as if tethered to the ground beneath her. she stayed until he was a swath of fur, until he was merely a dot on the horizon. she stayed until he was long gone and until the sun begun to rest its weary head. when the crickets came out to sing, the snowwoman stood, too, and headed towards the meadow, where she would sleep under the stars ; thinking cruel thoughts.

she would stay there as the thoughts spun in her head. and she would stay there until dawn came, until she would fetch herself something to eat and head back to her den, avoiding any possible sight or scent of her ... the storm cloud, for the next coming days.