Nova Peak β

In that moment, Moon Runner felt they spoke the same language.

They reunited like old friends. The flora of distant peaks left traces on the the woman’s hair. A journey. The masculine scent of another was there, too. A mate?

Cloud Dancer, the spirit named her.

Then, the sound of crackling evergreen twigs caught Moon Runner’s attention. Over Cloud Dancer’s shoulder was a grizzly beast slumped against a a tree. From him was thrown a reeking skin into the snow.

Moon Runner’s neck stretched out as her nose inspected a downwind draft. A repulsive odor wafted from the man and caused her to recoil. She ducked her head like an owlet as her tongue passed over her nose, suspicious.

Though she could not understand the concept of language, Moon Runner could interpret Cloud Dancer’s concerned glances. She noticed, however, that Cloud Dancer kept a healthy distance from the man. This was difficult to parse. Were they pack mates? What bound them together? The spirit wondered.

Moon Runner’s ears turned in thought. She dared not advance towards the odorous male, but it was evident he was in great pain. She thought back to the time of her own illness… How Wise Father sought help from another clan. How she she had been given new grass to chew. How Wealda and Wise Mother shepherded her from a safe den to drinking waters.

Moon Runner turned and lifted a paw, as if her spirit said follow me. She knew of an old den nearby where they could rest.