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leaves clung like ash to his legs, and ts’okhun bore it with a boyish grimace— toes digging into the northern flank of the valley, where the wind sang harsh and lonely. the sky was a wide, pale bruise above him, stretching forever. he liked that. liked the quiet of this place, away from the dens and his sister’s constant bark. here, he could imagine he was the only wolf alive. a king, maybe. or a god.
he walked with purpose, though he didn’t know where to. just north. always north. they said nothing lived up here but ghosts, but that didn’t scare him. ghosts didn’t bite. ghosts didn’t call him useless.
a raven barked overhead. ts’okhun stopped, craning his neck to follow its glide. go on then, he muttered under his breath, puffing steam. see if i care. still, his eyes lingered on the bird until it vanished. and then, he pressed on, deeper into the frostbitten silence, little tail curled and jaw tight.