Cerulean Cape there's something the dead are keeping back

The sense of belonging Ragna found in having a pack-in having the Malkaria- liberated her. Her survival was not solely dependent on her, as it was when she was a lone wolf. She had support, now, in her packmates. She was content in the Copse, tending to its borders and its caches. And now that she knew where her brothers were, she had little reason to leave. Slowly the fire of anger at her ancestral home being inhabited by another pack was burning out.

Yet her heart was still a compass to the sea, and she missed the sting of brine. She set out early one morning to pay visit to the ocean, swinging wide around Stavanger Bay and passing even the river's mouth. The moment her paws sunk into sand, she was entirely content, bolstered by the sound of the tide. In the distance she saw another and, since it wasn't so far from Saltwinter's borders, she wondered if the wolf belonged to Jorunn- Kjallar's- pack. Ragna barked to catch the woman's attention, hoping the sound would carry over the wind and waves.