On the day that marked a full month of independence Dwin had expected to feel more jubilant. In her minds eye this journey should have panned out quite differently than it had. For example, having one extraordinary adventure after another, where in reality she had had some interesting encounters, but most of the time she was alone in the face of mundane routine. It left her wondering, whether her assumption that her grandma Finley's and uncle Colt's adventures had happened daily, been wrong. That - perhaps - she had received the very essence of the most interesting stuff that had happened in their lives, while the rest was the same and utterly boring as before. After all you did not remember every second of your life anyway. 

Hunger and cold had been entirely new adversaries she had to tackle daily. Four weeks after leaving Brecheliant the young wolf was visibly thinner and lack of food had an effect on her mood too. Not once had she considered returning home and giving journey-making another try at some later point, when the weather was more favourable. On more than one occasion, when her meal consisted of someone else's dinner leftovers, she thought about the group hunts and the galore of fresh meat it brought to the table. In a nutshell - being on your own was not as fun as she had imagined it to be.

However, now and then she had her share of luck, which renewed her optimism and today such event had happened. Recent freezing temperatures had left some fish without access to sufficient oxygen and therefore Dwin hit a jackpot of frozen food in a river-bend. She ate her fill, stashed the remaining ones to eat later, and set down to groom herself and rest. She was humming to herself, while picking out snow between her footpads, when a sound of approaching footfalls made her look up and notice the old wolf coming in her direction. Being in good mood and somewhat too lazy to be afraid, she greeted the man from afar: "Good afternoon, sir!"