Sequoia Coast Memory comes when memory's old

It was late - the dark sky hidden behind the masses of clouds, wind howling and waves of the raging ocean clashing against the shore. There wasn't a living soul at the coast, apart from a lone, dark figure of a wolf, standing motionless with it's gaze focused at the restless waters. Eyes - one in a color of burning coals, the other black were fixed on something the creature alone could see and her mischievous expression that changed now and then from moments of wonder and satisfaction to flashes of deep hatred and eagerness to hurt gave an impression that she was having a conversation with someone.

"I won't fail you," she whispered, looking the great snake in the eyes. It's face that was lifted slightly above the water twisted into a sneer, fangs flashing and poison dripping from it's tips. A warning, a friendly gesture - who knew. Snakes were not known for showing emotions well and Hedda didn't believe that this had any at all, therefore she frowned: "No, need to show off." It let out a low hiss and disappeared underwater. She closed her eyes and memorized everything it had told her. There was a plan, a quest to accomplish. Then she would die to join the warriors of her kind. Not the fools that feasted and fought in Valhalla. No, Hedda had a different afterlife meant for her.

When she was sure of her path and the next move in the game that had begun, she left the place, breaking out in a steady and determined trot along the coastline.