Moonspear she was young and all she had was the city

She drifted in from the coast, seemingly carried on the breeze and bearing nothing with her except her bare bones and the scent of lingering saltwater. This was soon to be replaced by the resplendent aroma of the winter wilds, and she found herself glad to be rid of the ocean's mightily cold companionship. The sea had been useful for a time, providing no shortage of fish, but the chill she was left with after every dive was enough to make one prefer to be hungry. The pallid wolf made a quick trot south, traveling overnight across a sandy plateau and through a moonlit wood as she traveled inland. Her aim seemed to be for the distant range of peaks; a comforting view of something she was used to.

Though spring was not too far ahead, this was no peak season to be alone. Her last pack had been intolerable (or maybe they wouldn't tolerate her, but no one besides her could know the unbiased truth), so she had simply left. It hadn't been a mountain anyway, and Ness didn't think she could ever truly be happy on level ground.

Her arrival on the borders of Moonspear (entirely by accident, mind you) made this her third pack since summer, and while the she-wolf was not a particularly fickle creature, she would not tolerate being uncomfortable. Ness inspected their borders as she began to slowly move perpendicular to it. Their scents were strong and many of them. This could be a good or bad sign depending on the nature of the wolves that resided here. But her curiousness bested her, and the yearling found herself waiting until a decent hour to call for an audience with the pack of this spire. When the sun had risen to her liking, Ness crooned and howled pleasantly into the crisp morning air.