Sitka holds him. Spirit to flesh. Brother to brother.
He does not remember the claw. Only the weight of a promise, the shove of fur and bone, and then—silence deeper than the Yukon in winter. sitka brother bear
Sitka understands now. The brother who died in flesh is born in light. Sitka holds him
He watches for days. Or perhaps it is years. Time in the spirit realm smells like cedar smoke and tastes like melted snow. the shove of fur and bone
Not again, Sitka thinks. Not another brother.