Bitterroot Valley you said you'd always be there for me

she tilted her head, pale eyes scanning the bundle he carried with a glint of approval. the younger wolf’s energy and determination had not gone unnoticed, and it brought a small smile to her lips.

you found good ones, she said, her tone warm, a rare softness in her otherwise measured voice. your young nose. sharper than mine.

her tail gave a single, approving sweep across the snow as she leaned in to inspect his findings more closely. the frost-bitten air did little to dull the scent of the herbs, their sharp and earthy aroma a welcome reprieve from the iron tang of caribou blood.

we look more for what remain. you give saatsine hope for winter.