Toklo grumbled. Every pawstep he took felt as if thorns were driving into his pads. Lusa was limping, too. “It’s time to stop for the day,” he announced. Two sunrises had passed since the bears had said good-bye to Akna and her cubs. They were walking in a shallow gully, sheltered by the wind, and separated from the shoreline by a gentle rise. The pine trees had been left behind; only a few scrubby bushes grew on the landward side of the gully. “It’s getting warmer all the time,” Toklo continued as he halted, “and the days are getting longer. I guess that’s why our paws feel so sore: We’re walking farther every day because we’re using all the daylight.” He flopped on one side and rasped his tongue over his stinging pads. “We’ll have to start limiting how far we travel each day,” he said between licks. “Good idea,” Yakone responded. Toklo was pleased by the white bear’s agreement. He knew that Yakone found their journey easier, because his paws were suited to walking on snow.
