nearby, within the sun's rays, would rest the sage, the cold causing their scars to ache and prickle like wildfire. before winning their position as the valereader's greenhorn so long ago, they had been like any other greenhorn, having gone out alone in a desperate bid to prove their worth as a member of the frostblown, having been afraid of being driven out. their bid had resulted in them being paralyzed from their injuries in the deep snow, with their kill half on top of them, the volume of the polar bear's fur much too thick for their voice to have been heard. it was at that time, that they had been rescued by the former valereader and taken back to heal.

they had been ever grateful to the healer when they had been rescued, coming to study under them as they healed, their kill proving their worth, and the fur of the great bear becoming the fur that lined their nest. thoughts now wrapped in memories of the past, the sage rested wordlessly, head on their own paws as they sought out the feeble warmth of the sun, as if it could be a makeshift press of warmth against their side, fearing the loneliness that the winter brought with it.

opening their eyes to half lid with a soft rumbling sound, would the beast turn their attention to bell, "yes. much to my chagrin, yes. too many memories to keep in check.", they would rumble softly in humor as they lifted their head, "the past leaves its marks everywhere, though often the scents are lost and markings obscure, it will always remain whether covered up or left in the open. time remembers everything, something i do not wish to ever have to experience. time within itself is cruel and hard, yet we must push on for that is our fate.", they would speak softly, mind wandering to thoughts of those who were lost, anger rippling through them at the memories of those they had grown up with, disappearing forever with that damned patrol. "time takes much from one, just be sure that it doesn't take your heart or will."

humming as they thought, "the good memories are few and far in between, my friend. those few memories that are good, hurt worse than the bad ones, with the people that belonged to those memories now long gone. such memories are bitter sweet and painful. those who belonged to them, now await me in a place that i cannot go.", they would speak, licking their paw to draw it over their ear. "but yes, there are good memories. memories of friends and loved ones, friends that i would call my brothers and sisters. times that i played in the river, times that i hunted down a big moose and fed all the children, all on my own as a young buck." they would give a faint smile.