Northstar Vale shotguns and barbed wire fences

Alya had mostly ignored the smoke. As long as it was not Moonspear on fire (she had learned about fire through her exploration of the Heartwood, the destruction of the Sentinels, and much questioning of her elders), she didn't really care what burned. The smoke was an unfortunate side effect of other creatures' misfortune. More than anything, she wished they would keep it all to themselves.

But there was nothing for it, so she didn't dwell on the tight soreness of her lungs or the diminishing air quality. It did, at least, provide some stellar sunsets. Alya appreciated beautiful things.

Speaking of beautiful? There was a boy on a nearby slope, his pelt dark but for a white 'kerchief coveirng his throat. Alya had met many black wolves since Dash, many of whom were more true to his coloration. But something about this wolf made her think back on her childhood protector, who had laid down his life for hers. Maybe the length of his legs, or the smooth, natural grace of his body as he picked his way down the mountainside.

Alya paused her investigating to watch him, as she often paused her patrols to watch the sunsets.