Qeya River Those who are about to die will say anything.

It was brighter here than in the north. There, the sun was pale - everything was pale. The vibrancy of each blade of grass, twisting branch, and even the sky, was almost too much for the warrior to bear. She could see no dangers lurking among the colors and the light; but then, there was a darkness. It slipped between the trees and caught her eye, then was gone once more. The fur of the gona's spine raised. Her tail lashed, and she bowed before meeting the oncoming stranger. Radova did not bow to honor the force that came drifting near, but to protect herself; she was a warrior, and could recognize the same burden in others. 

There was a difference in the dark wolf that approached her, though. A raised tail, a commanding air like that of a heda - but there was no mention of a clan this far to the west. Perhaps the mountain was taboo because of this clan? Making the riverside a dangerous border, and the surrounding lands their hunting grounds. It did not take much for Radova to size-up the figure which approached, and she was firmly set on the defensive.