Never had he experienced such cold weather in his life. The feeling of snow crunching underneath of him made Ra grimace with disgust. How did other wolves stand this stuff? To make matters worse, the huge fissures in the ground were preventing their group from returning home. Would this ever end for this world? Already he was missing the duties he carried around the palace, guarding and protecting the divine royalty with all his being. Ra's time with the little wolf Sitamun had already been forgotten as well, sexual desires quickly becoming less of a priority then his own duties.

So when he was to set out on a patrol on the outskirts of the druids' homeland, there was at least a small sense of peace settling within him. The quiet after the snow storm settled him somewhat in his skin, the only sound of the snow underfoot accompanying him. The only thing that would have made it better, would be to see the stars smiling down upon the golden wolf as if welcoming him back home. Now that would have been a treat.

Cúán found himself wandering, too. The snow and cold still rankled him, but like any man of the Red Canyon, he did not allow it to cow him. He was careful, yes, but not afraid. After a sevenday—perhaps more—passed by, he came to understand it more. In some ways it was like sand, only its treachery differed. In better conditions, he might take the risk of attempting the journey alone.

He glanced up at the overcast sky and frowned. If only he could see the stars!

Without their guiding light, he would be stranded in the gloom. Instead he took to wandering around the Rise, keeping close enough to the druids that his nose could hide him back to their earthy, herbal dens if need be. As he walked, he came upon a set of fresh tracks. Another wolf—but not one of the druids, though traces of their scent lingered. Another of the desert delegation?

Cúán quickened his pace, and soon the stranger came into view. He called out: Hello!