Greatwater Lake homesick for the sea

It wasn't a particularly safe thing to do, wandering off by herself, but Naga felt a gaping hole in her heart... and as each day passed, it only seemed to widen. She missed the Alaskan sea, she missed her mothers, she missed Atropos. It seemed a cruel joke of the gods that they would sing of the Kesuk-Nereides destiny, only to abandon them in the land that was supposed to see their paths grow into something greater. Only to rip Atropos away from her, the only connection she still had to the Sea and Atka and Sos... to her mothers.

Perhaps that was why the lake called to her so. At its shores, she felt as though it could be the ocean, it spread so far into the distance. All it was missing was the thick, rich scent of salt on the breeze and the flavorful fish that she knew and loved. The fish here seemed bland in comparison; more like mud and dirt than the fresh taste of those she was raised on.

Naga sighed, laying along the lakeshore, her forepaws idly splashing at the shallows.

Tonravik had very little to miss. She would recreate it all here. Her mother and her savagery were things she respected and bring to life here in herself. If there was one identifiable thing she desired to be here, it would be the blistering cold. Tonravik despised the heat. Winter would come, and then there would be nothing to miss at all. Emotion was beyond her. Not beneath her, but beyond her capabilities. Something she could not comprehend or translate.

There would be few times she would leave Silvertip, but she did today to search for other wolves that had potential to become a part of Tartok. There were things that occurred for reasons, but Tonravik did not question these reasons. She let them be. She did not ask. She acted.

Her eyes did not see the young wolf lingering listlessly nearby; she had come to quench her thirst. The young one was nearby, but Tonravik also could not smell her given the wind was not in her own favor. It was only before she went to drink that she noted the presence of the agouti wolf. Had she been her mother, she would have been able to identify who's progeny this might have been. The hooks were mirrors of Aktaie's own! But Tonravik knew only of the lore of Seahawk and its inhabitants, and the way of her mothers once-faith.

As it were, she could not identify who this was. Tonravik eyed the other, and then moved to drink. Not once did she remove her own murky brown eyes from the lanky figure of the stranger.