Qeya River let the mob come, pitchforked and petrified

All welcome. @Tirak maybe?

The borders have grown quiet. There hasn’t been a sign of a Larksong wolf in weeks and it is only then, after discussing it with Dio, that they return to their normal schedule. Border patrol will even out to all sides of the dragon with an extra precaution on the western borders for a while—perhaps while the grotto still exists beneath Reek’s reign. She finishes her own scouting from that side as she makes her way down the ridge where she eventually meets the river.

Thuringwethil moves along the bank, following it to the watering howl it leads from. The last time she’d been to the water had been when she’d stumbled upon Denali one afternoon and to her surprise, she hadn’t seen him since. She often stumbles across Seadog wolves still but it has been some time, to her surprise, and so she lets the thoughts drain from her mind as she closes in on the water.

It soaks the fur around her legs as she takes several steps in until it comes up to her chest. Her tail floats lazily on top back and forth as she lets it soak through her coat and enjoying the cool water against her warm skin. It is not the salty ocean water she craves but, for the time being, it'll soothe her.