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dragons haven't died off."
    "So maybe we could find the golden dragon and get him to make White happy again?" Kam asked excitedly.
    Lor shook his head again. "There are tales of three golden dragons living in the southern mountain range, but they do not contact us."
    "Why not?" Kam asked, tugging Lor down onto their shared sleeping fur as he spoke. Kam could think of at least one golden dragon, An'nanyle who was mated to Prince Leon, but he couldn't think of any others aside from the Eldest who was rumored to be gold colored as well. Since the Eldest never left the dragon caves, Kam didn't know if that were true or not.
    "Because they abandoned us so they feel guilty, and we refused to heed their orders to move to the human city they created so they do not listen to our needs. Only the white dragon cared for us, but White cannot help us now."
    The conversation ended there, but Kam couldn't help thinking about that poor dragon encased in ice for the next two days while they waited out the storm. On the second night, the old storyteller gathered them all close to the fire. 
    "There once was a city, a beautiful city where dragons and humans lived together in harmony," the storyteller began in a creaking, ominous voice. "Humans came from as far as the Wilds to see the city. It was surrounded by ice, but thanks to the powers of the dragons, remained warm and fertile. But the dragons warred and the city was lost."
    Lor sat down next to Kam on the bedroll they were sharing, but stayed silent. Kam was listening intently to the storyteller since he hadn't heard this tale before. 
    "The ice began to flow into the city, freezing the underground hot springs and encasing the verdant fields and our homes in unending snow. The wind blew and the blizzards came and the Tribe was forced to abandon the city. They travelled far, to the dragon mountain we are in right now. Old White slept, as he sleeps now unchanged. The Tribe pleaded with White, begging for him to return and to save their city from utter destruction. But White, in his pain, could not hear. So the Tribe left White, wishing to give him the space and time to recover from his loss, and travelled across the ice to build a new home, or homes, now that there are two clans. In times of great need we return to White's sanctuary, hoping that one day White will return to save the Tribe from the endless ice." 
    The storyteller fell silent and the clan echoed him for a long moment before a child squealed. With the reverence broken, they all headed towards their bedrolls and another night under White's unknowing care. 
    The next morning they waited for the sky to finish clearing. It took a while for the winds to stop blowing and after that they still needed to unblock enough of a pathway through the accumulated snow that they could get their sleds on top of the new snowpack. He didn't visit White again because the horrible wrenching feeling of loneliness made Kam want to cry. One visit was enough to understand why that emotion was so prevalent in the winds over the ice wastes: the dragon was projecting so forcefully that Kam could feel him even outside the mountains.
    Lor seemed to be able to tamp down those emotions while Kam stayed within his magical shield. The second after Kam stepped through the barrier keeping the snow and wind out of the gigantic entrance to their cave, the emotions returned full force. Kam hated thinking he was getting used to feeling something so awful, but he rarely staggered when he was sent outside anymore.
    The ride out of the mountain was the opposite of the scramble to the mountains. The sky was cloudless and so blue that the light reflected off the snow and hurt Kam's eyes. Lor gave him some charcoal to rub on his cheeks below his eyes to help with some of the sun glare.
    Everything Kam could see looked pristine and peaceful, a clean white blanket covered everything. He didn't even realize they were back to the campsite until Hern finally dropped the traces