Moonspear i imagine death so much it feels more like a memory

The air was cold and clear, and before long a light snow began to fall. With a great deal of satisfaction, Ragna listened to her howl fly up the slopes of the mountain towering above. Though the peak had a name-- how could it not?-- Ragna could not recall its name. The sea salt that blew in on rare briney breezes flavored her return with nostalgia, reminding her dimly of her childhood. It had seemed so long ago, though she knew it to only be months. Winter was closing in fast, and Ragna only hoped she could find a home-- temporary or not-- before it was too late.

The snow had begun to stick to her fur when another wolf appeared. From a distance, Ragna mistook her for a fox, but when she drew near Ragna decided that this was not the case. The wolf seemed to be of an age with Ragna, or near enough. She was all reds and blacks, and Ragna thought that she was pretty. Nervous, Ragna shifted her stance into what she thought was an acceptable posture.

At first, when the girl mentioned that she was not a leader, Ragna found herself frustrated. Then, with great relief, she realized that it would spare her a stressful interaction with a leader. Charon had been Beta, and her mother had been Alpha, but it was different when they were family. Other leaders were more intimidating than she liked, and they made her feel very small. "Um, hi," Ragna said, averting her eyes politely. "I'm Ragna Loðbrók Ragnarsson. Who are you?"