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The track had disappeared under a raging river of spring melt. Higher up the mountain, maybe a boulder had slipped and diverted a stream bed, or maybe it was just that a warmer than normal early spring day, was melting a snow bank too fast. Whatever the cause the result was roaring water with four children on the wrong side of the water and one child trapped on an island in the rising water. Author's Notes
Kalitelm was not the youngest, but she was the smallest. With her abnormally short legs and reliance on a cane, she had not been able to run out of the path of the torrent.
On the Itadesh side of the water, the rest of the children were screaming for help or weeping as Oromaal came, angry-faced, around the turn. After one stunned glance, she raised her voice in a high ululating yell that seemed to echo off the sky.
Firl and Reqem came running.
Firl put his arm around Oromaal's shoulder, his face was white.
Reqem grabbed the two biggest children by the shoulder.
Inspired by Elisabeth Barrette's prompt of "a Northerner who loves to climb."
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