Lele had decided that the remainder of her life was too short to do things she did not particularly enjoy. In the context of being in a pack, it meant that she had stopped feeling guilty for not socializing more or trying to fit in. Rather she was a quiet presence here, did her contribution of filling caches and being useful, when asked, but preferring her own company most of the time. 

The realization that she might be too old to have kids (not that the spring would cease to sing in her veins for the next few springs or that the scents of other she-wolves in heat would make her less agitated and wanting), had freed her of the necessity to hastily find a mate and fulfill that lifelong dream. The only regret was that she had imagined, planned her story to be entirely different from the way it had actually panned out. 

So, what else is there to do, then to write the last chapters well? She did. With no grand plans to pressure her or spoil the simple joys in life, she was quite content of the satus quo at Moonspear. Most of the time she spent at the foot of the mountain, finding plenty to occupy herself with in the forests. Then, when she felt like it, she would take one of the many paths that led upwards to find a nice place to sit down and watch over the valley and eye the mountains in the distance. 

Like what she was doing now. Being in the moment and feeling happy that she had lived this long and made it this far. 

After a while Lele's solitude was broken by a tall and handsome intruder. She had probably seen the man around, perhaps, they had exchanged polite greetings or fleeting glances, when passing each other. Her gaze lingered on his face, taking in the details and then went quickly over his body. While she was not looking for anything in terms of a partnership, she would not deny herself the pleasure of admiring a well-built specimen. 

"It's good," she agreed. "Makes you appreciate, how small and insignificant you are," she went on with the small-talk. "What's your name?" she asked.