Bitterroot Valley The Sheep and the Goats

sega padded beside him, long stride unhurried, nose working the cold air as they followed the rut-stamped trail. for a time he said nothing— letting the rhythm of movement settle callahan’s restless pulse. then, quieter than the snow under their paws, he spoke.

you meet many now, sega murmured. angel. elowyn. ravah. kasia.

his tail brushed once behind him, not quite a wag— more a sign of thought.

how you find them? he asked, voice low, meant only for the two of them. they kind? make you feel… home?