Moonsong Glacier mere man ki ganga

two women, both in heat.

he ought to hole himself away in some distant cave for the remainder of mating season.

aditya sighed, his breath fogging only slightly. spring was well on its way, and he'd managed to pick his way up to a less-slick part of this place—which must, he thought, be beautiful in the depth of winter, at full ice. even now, the moonlight bounced and shimmered off the pale plain.

he could see at this height the places where he'd traveled thus far, and other sights that looked somewhat familiar.

the moonspear—though it had changed. something had happened. and its wolves were gone.

he vowed not to climb to such a great altitude that he could see, perhaps, the maplewood, or the island. he should never return to such territories.

better to reflect upon untouched ice, and dream of places yet unseen.

Something in her stirred, and Sialuk strayed from her haunts—the spine and the spear. She spent more and more of her time on the latter, listening closely to the words her ancestors spoke. They drew her path here today, and she spotted the wolf laying eyes upon her birthplace.

You look upon them as father looks upon children, she said, canting her head to see as he peered out at the moonlit landscape. Nostalgia, wishing to remember times passed.

now she was very young. the age of his children. he looked upon her as such, and smiled, gazing ruefully along the landscape.

i know many of these lands, he explained. i am deciding where to go next.

his nostrils flared slightly, gauging her scent. a pack wolf. and. . .perhaps nearby. what brings you out here, ladki? he asked, cocking his head.

they were alone upon the glacier.

She did not know the last word he spoke. It was foreign like her mother’s tongue was to those who came from outside Moonglow. Not even her ancestors had known her mother’s words. Her father knew some, and he spoke them lovingly, but he did not know them in the same way anaa did.

This man was older than both her mother and her father, but that did not intimidate the girl who would come into her own this year. She was, and always had been, comfortable with herself, no matter the company.

These lands are sacred to my family, she said. Memories of a strange man her mother had helped stirred in Sialuk. She could not remember all that had happened then. Too much since that time to sort out details.

The last word you spoke—ladki—this is not common speak. Like my mother speaks to me, but not. Sialuk canted her head to one side, curious.

his posture shifted slightly, face growing more reverent. he didn't know he was on sacred grounds, and felt he should act accordingly. then she spoke again, and his smile grew warmer, gentler.

it means 'girl.' it is my own mother's tongue. adi gazed at her, gently questioning. does your family live nearby?

the only pack he knew nearby had been moonspear—and they were gone.

Another language, passed from mother to child. Sialuk had always been so curious about her mother's heritage, and while she had learned much, she knew she had only peeled away one or two layers of many. Anaa's people were one that Sialuk had always revered.

Aya, to the ring of mountains, she said, her snout pointing toward her home of the past year (and then some). I spend much time here. This—Moonspear—was the place my mother gave birth to me. My father's mother gave birth to him here, also.

Something—a light whispering sound—rang in her head, only for her to hear.

One day, you give birth to your sons and daughters here.

She knew it to be true.

the ring of mountains he did not know. but moonspear—well, of course. his face lit with curiosity but also sympathy; whatever had transpired upon that great spire had been within this girl's lifetime, if she had been born there.

perhaps had lost much. . .

will you show me to your home? aditya asked, pointedly avoiding the moonspear in his periphery. he didn't want to ask, didn't want to dredge up old, terrible memories for her. he should learn more about what was, rather than what had been. i would like to meet your pack, if they'd allow.

ambassadorship, or the thought of it, lit a familiar fire in his breast. a purpose. he found himself even now straightening, rolling his shoulders back in an accustomed, easy manner.

Will you show me to your home? he asked, and Sialuk paused a moment, thinking of the dark wolf who had once sought something of anaa and even herself that neither of them had wished to give. But this was not that wolf, Sialuk reminded herself, and she would have something to give in the coming months, should nature allow.

Moonspear pulled her, but that was not her home. The spine was, and she beckoned him to follow her. I am called Sialuk Ostrega, and our village, Moonglow, she said. The raindrop was aware that her mother had shed the Ostrega name, but Sialuk had kept it. She respected Aiolos, but it was her taataa she wished to honor by keeping his name alive. Not only him, but the other family she had lost that day. She could not speak their names, but she could speak her own, and Ostrega was part of her.