Big Salmon Lake in the middle of the day

his expression taut with the strain that had begun to coil in his chest as the wedding drew nearer.

sometimes, he replied, voice gruff, clipped, a hard edge to his words that spoke of his restlessness. he glanced briefly toward the lake, its icy surface reflecting the muted winter light, before turning his gaze back to the stranger.

busy days ahead, he added after a pause, though his tone did not invite further conversation. tension rolled off him like the frost-bitten winds, and though he stood still, his posture bristled with unspent energy.