KojaCreature

The mountains had been changing over the past few weeks. Perhaps that was not the most accurate phrasing; after all, it was not the mountains themselves that were changing, but rather its inhabitants. The invariable behaviour of the animals, the rhythm of their movement back and forth across the treacherous mountains of Linx terrain, had shifted. Not a small, gradual shift, as one may have expected from year to year, but a sudden, remarkable disorder that threw every Linx’s expectations for a loop. The caribou were moving in the complete opposite direction of their usual calving grounds. Monarch butterflies were fluttering to a frosty death in droves (a fact that made at least bug collectors happy). The few geese that had survived remaining in the winter mountains were fleeing south, one by one, and flocks of other birds collided in the cloudy skies. It seemed as though every single creature in the mountains knew something the pack didn’t. The epsilons were bewildered, and there was