Ridge

Amora appears in the midst of the celebrations and plops down on her haunches next to me. I can smell blood on her fur—her blood. But she’s clearly not dying, so I don’t mention it. I learned early in our friendship not to mention any weaknesses she might have, unless I wanted to get kicked in the nuts.

Sable safe? she asks, even her mind speak tone worried.

Sable is safe, I assure her. We left her on the ridge, but she’s coming down right now.

I can sense my mate traversing the steep slope, taking her time with every step so she won’t go tumbling down the mountainside....