~Ramuell~
~Ramuell~Thinking as a Domhanian, I had wondered how so much meat could be preserved. The Crow Clan knew what was coming, and I should have as well. Six days after our successful hunt, the winds shifted again. In a single day, the cool westerly breezes became a howling north wind. Winter’s first storm blew frigid air across the gargantuan glacial ice floes only a few hundred kilometres north of Blue Rock Canyon. Overnight the slabs of meat froze solid.
Within a couple of undecim the river’s powerful current, choked with chunks of ice, slowed to a sluggish flow. Back at SWA-7 people often made comments like, “There’s a hint of autumn in the air this morning,” or “It seems like winter is just around the bend.” Those statements now seem cavalier in the extreme. Daytime temperature
