A boy stares into the night. The moon, also known to some as Pheobe, glows speculative there and waxes his small world into a new hunting season. The last before the snows come. An important one for the small band of sapiens if they are going to survive until the flowers come again.
Now, even at night, the ground lay open as in daylight because the night spirit’s generosity was in full plumage. With the extra light gained, the boy wonders if a…
