Porcupine Ridge Dreaming of Spring

Diane, still trying to find her bearings around the cold and foreign Porcupine Ridge, was now finding it less and less difficult to cope with the changes that had been thrust into her existence. Her wrecked sleeping schedule and the adjoining nightmares often left her tired day to day, but she was discovering reserves of energy within herself, fueled by a deep curiosity to know more about her home and acquaint herself with a new way of life.

She hadn't fallen in the last two days, which was a good sign, she supposed, but her movements were definitely more slow and cautious than she cared to be. Padding along an obtuse stretch of ground, she found herself smelling a packmate—unfamiliar to her nose—and she made her way towards the feminine scent with an eager trot. "Hi," she chirped, coming to stand several feet away from the snowy she-wolf. A small twinge of envy fluttered in her chest, and Diane found herself wishing she could have such an immaculate coat.

"I'm Diane."