The Sentinels One love

The fluffy snow and plunging temperatures perhaps should have deterred her from traveling, yet Wildfire delighted in trekking through the winter wonderland. A strange furrow through the white powder gave her an additional excuse; it looked as if a few deer had waded past. She tracked them northwest, across the terrace, following the trench until the snow became shallow and vanished entirely as the young hunter reached the fringes of a forest. Despite the naked branches, not much snow had managed to fall here, leaving only a thin rime of frost on the leaf-strewn forest floor.

Giving up on the tracking, she moseyed through the wood, eventually popping out on its far northern edge and blinking up at the plateau off to the left. A breeze blustered past her, carrying the briny smell of the ocean yonder. Much more prominently, she detected the scent markers of the nearby wolf pack. Wildfire pointed her muzzle in that direction, then slowly wandered forth toward the borders. Her heart beat a little faster as she wondered about the possibility of spontaneously meeting her aunt today.

When she drew close to the boundary line, Wildfire's black tail twitched. She prepared to throw her head back to howl when she caught sight of a gray wolf off in the distance. Assuming it was Dante, she watched the distant figure, waiting patiently for it to come closer.