The mountains did not forget. Even as the storm faded into memory, its aftermath lingered- etched into frozen earth, carried in the wind, buried beneath layers of snow that would one day melt.
And far beyond the reach of the Bloodmoon pack… The child lived. The old man did not stop moving. Hours passed since he left the cabin, since he wrapped the infant in what little warmth he could find. Since he walked away from the only place her mother had ever known peace.
His legs ached, his breath came in ragged clouds against the cold, but still, he did not stop. The baby was quiet now, nestled against his chest beneath layers of worn cloth and fur. Too quiet. The elder’s grip tightened slightly.
“No…” he murmured under his breath…” Stay with me, little one.
He adjusted her gently, pressing h
