The Floe Game — Each morning, before the wind combed the bay flat, Tavik padded from floe to floe and named the safest ones under his breath: Drum, Shelf, Moon, Tooth. Read the full story →
Each morning, before the wind combed the bay flat, Tavik padded from floe to floe and named the safest ones under his breath: Drum, Shelf, Moon, Tooth. He had invented the game after noticing that some ice sang with a hollow clink, while some answered his paws with a deep, steady thump. Every day he played alone, choosing a path that would carry him across the silver water without cracking.
Until one day, a fog rolled in smelling of salt and old snow, and a low barking echoed from the channel. Because of that, Tavik stopped in the middle of his game and listened. Because of that, he heard walrus calves bumping against thin ice where the current had bitten it from below. No one could see him through the pearly blur.
Finally, Tavik changed the rules. He stomped three times on the strong floes and scraped an X on the weak ones with one black claw. The walrus mothers followed the thumps, slow and careful, until the last calf slid into safe water with a splash. Tavik went on naming the ice for no one at all: Drum, Shelf, Moon, Tooth—and next time you study the floes, see if you can guess which ones he trusted.
