Nen'a's old hunting and tracking instinct were rusty, but the last three weeks had helped to sharpen them back up.  What hadn't sharpened up was her age.  She was the oldest member of the tribe, taken care of over the years, given aid above others when they originally trekked through the mountains.  Walking through the same mountains, on her own, at her age, had been painful.  She could not keep up with game and her traps went empty for days.

Caves weren't hard to find in this part of the mountains, and it was getting dark.  This high up, and at this time of the year, the night air would become dangerously cold.  Nen'a laid down another bundle of firewood, and removed her pack.  Pulling out her fire kit, she began to start her fire, but stopped before it lit.  She looked out of the mouth of the cave as snow began to drift down, thinking about how Emm'a had always loved the snow.  With aching bones, she pushed the firewood a bit deeper in the caves, and sat where the firewood had been, crosslegged, to watch the snow.

She closed her eyes and began to pray.

A prayer to the Makers, from one of the Tribe.  Auros, I pray to the morning light.  Your first light banishes stars, but darkness flees before you.  Hear my plea, and in your wisdom, give me the guidance I need.

I lost my love and my child, too young in my life...in their life.  All those years, the cruelty of the other women, the punishment of these mountains, the loss of the souls I couldn't save.  Deep down inside, I felt each loss.  Something I had done, something I had said, something I had earned.  I've tried to be good, given what I could when I could, been there for others, given of myself when I felt in my own most desperate need.  Auros, I have tried.  Tried so hard to repay whatever punishment put me in this shell, made me the brunt of unwarranted cruelty, took the lives of all those people from my hands. 

I am old, Auros.  I may not make my journey.  I ask, Auros, that when your light touches the sky, when I awake for another's day journey, that you give me the strength to make it to my wife and child again.  I have done my best to pay for whatever I have done to be in this life.  Their bones are so far away.  I ask, at the cost of all the good will I have paid to redeem myself, to see them one more time before my age ends me.

Auros, hear my prayers, from your lost child.

After a long while, Nen'a opened her eyes, and wiping away her tears, started the fire.  She pulled her bedding out from her pack, and climbed in for a sleep.  Another day of hiking lay ahead of her in the morning.

When the first rays of morning broke the night sky, Nen'a awoke to the loving embrace of a long lost family.