Whitebark Stream I'll send a postcard to you, dear

the child’s bedraggled state stirred something deep within her, a pull that felt painfully maternal. yet, she bit her tongue, her jaws tightening as she watched ice diver engage with the girl, humor and pragmatism laced in her tone.

there was a flicker of hesitation in k’edghildza’s stance, her paws shifting slightly against the frozen ground. every instinct urged her to step forward, to offer warmth, guidance, something to ease the child’s misery. but she stayed rooted, her mind warring with the lessons of the taiga—strength was often forged in frost, not in comfort.

her gaze softened, if only slightly, as the girl’s trembling words reached her ears. she admired the defiance, even in the face of cold and strangers. a caribou hunter, she murmured under her breath, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. one of us.