Whitebark Stream look, this comes as no surprise.

a new scent broke over the wilds, leaving sobeille on edge.

she knew it from the year before; the changing of bodies and the hormonal signaling of receptivity that, as far as she understood, came to all women.

when would it be sivaak's turn? or hers? she wondered if sivaak would make the men run as chani would, or fight as sobeille intended; what gauntlet must a man crawl through to prove his worth?

sobeille nosed a pawprint left neatly in the snow. around its edges lingered the singeing scent of estrus; it crisply stung her muzzle, and caused her pulse to quicken.