Permafrost Hollows I cannot stay where nature's embrace is lost

nature had spurned the man from qeya river once more, along the ridge that separated territories. led by the curling scents of stranger wolves—but two were brazen, and familiar. one belonging to the black and gold man he had seen before, with a scent unmistakably crownore. the other was one embedded so deeply into his senses that it stirred a slurry of emotions in his calloused heart. @Jora. thick paws are muted thuds against the earth as he skulks with every intention of finding his sister.

but then there is a sound. distant, muffled, but wrong. the stillness of the pines betrays it, the sharp crack of ice fracturing the silence like a bone snapping clean in two.

his head lifts, ears pricked.

then—nothing.

his hackles bristle. he moves toward the sound until he finds the place where the earth has swallowed something whole. he peers down into the jagged hole, eyes adjusting to the dark below.

a woman. sprawled, motionless. alive.

he exhales sharply through his nose. what in the fuck are you doing down there?