Bearclaw Valley Tomorrow

Our wolves are often hurt, Ico heard himself muse privately, though he was discounting himself, as he so often did. He was quick on his paws, but he was no warrior. On the contrary, he was easy prey. He understood why warriors wore their scars with pride, but Ico was more likely to find himself chomped up entirely than gleaming with valiant war wounds.

Navigators... I like that idea very much, he replied, having never before encountered the prospect of historians being held in lofty regard. Merrick had once suggested he could be something like a priest, but that was different.

What was your old clan like? Ico asked, curious and compelled, poised to absorb whatever was deemed appropriate for him to hear.

-fade out-