Bearclaw Valley time and time again

the days felt warmer.

it was an odd sort of feeling, especially considering the cold front and wind chills rolling through the valley had grown relentless. and yet even still, it felt warmer — she felt a warmth.

it had given her a new pep in her step, a bout of energy she'd not felt since the excitement of her children's arrival in her life. speaking of children, she was on a mission to find them, romping through the territory in hopes of bumping into @Anatolia or zephyra.

they'd grown so big, so beautiful, and she felt like she had missed it in a blink. so much time missed out on with them, so much time she hoped to catch up on now.

there seemed to be one last adult, one last woman that nanuralaaq had yet to meet ; and so when the scent of the temporary-stranger drifted towards her dark nose, the snowwoman sprung into action, moving in a canter as she sought the woman. her pelt was thick with a mothers-scent ; a den ; children ; a warmth that radiated in waves, and more surprisingly, cole. just how many claims had he made on the valley women?

as she approached the pallid lady - younger, it appeared, though not by many moons - the huntress released a low chuff, before she spoke: hello, came her warm, lilting tones. rala drew herself to a halt a comfortable space away. it was up to her packmate, now, should she wish to draw closer. my name is rala, it is good to finally meet you, eh ... nephele, right? as cole had said ; this was the woman with the girls.

it wasn't either daughter that she found, but rather a familiar scent yet to take shape as a face until now. rala, as the woman introduced, could be found on all stretches of the valley with her scent, seemingly always in a hurry given the woman's trade. nephele had never sought her out, but thought it good to finally have figure to go along with the scent.

"ah, yeah, that's me," she confirmed, giving a friendly sway of her tail.

if nephele had known that was how she was distinguished amongst others — the one with the girls, — she would have beamed a smile so bright it might have rivaled that of the sun. if ever she were to pick how she'd be remembered in this life, that was certainly what she'd choose.

as a mother.

"apologies we've never met before," the woman started, giving space for rala to join her as they walked. "i'm not really a social butterfly."