“Once the ice was covering this ground, smooth, unchanging. Then the boulders were round still, and the humans nowhere to be seen. The world was young.”
You were reading my mind, but know better. You walked here, often, you and your tribe. Then there was no human eye to see you. Even now, I know you’re here, but only your voice reassures me that it is not a dream.
But I see you as you once were. Proud, agile, attuned to the ice, the rocks, the flying creatures in the air, the growing trees.
Now, you are waiting. The rift will pass, the ice will return. And we, unscrupulous hooligans, will go.