Duskfire Glacier mountain bone

while he let @Moondancer lead them out the grotto, he had made the choice to head to the east. toward what called to him. the jagged ice pick that danced to the heavens. the glacier that supplied water to the caribou that he feasted upon.
where wounded showed up at his doorstep. where war had broken out. the wind felt sharper against the shadow of his coat, but the light of the moon was there to balance him. snowangel, rather.
he led her upward if she followed; up to the tallest peaks. where there were dens hollowed out and abandoned. filled with dust and old belongings. to aid her if she needed, he'd hold out a paw for her to latch onto. or even nudge her behind with his snout upon a particularly steep ledge.
where he was taking her?
he stopped at the mouth of the stone crag: it's entrance dramatic at the mouth. his den. his home. he hesitated before it, walking closer, brushing against moondancer's side.
inside, it was the same as he left it. bed of caribou and musk oxen hides. trinkets from satori. from gjalla. from tikigak. it smelled of him, of a time that he could no longer grab hold of. it was a mere fantasy drowned in memorabilia.
he looked back toward his moondancer, reddened eyes overwhelmed by what was left behind, and said nothing. maybe she could fill the silence for them.