Bitterroot Valley dalnum

The morning of summers were the only bearable thing about them.

Before the sun scorched the land beneath harsh rays of heat. Already she longed for another turn of seasons, for fall to return and plunge them into winter. Doubtful that she would still feel that way if she continued onward alone when the time came.

Yet for now winter was a dream.

The flowers along the short-cropped valley were pretty she supposed...

The idle thinking of a young woman who walked along the trails of migrational beasts. Deep, long and winding. Generations of hooved creatures had used this place.

So why did it feel so utterly empty and lonely on that summer morning?