A thick mist had set upon the winding river in the early 'morn, though an oncoming gale from the south threatened to blow it to smithereens. For now, it held the waterfront fast, and shrouded distant sights with its dewy, gossamer layers. Though dense and churning, the fog could not hide the sharp, tantalizing scent of the saline coast beyond the freshwater stream which eventually emptied into the vast sea. It was an ominous and enigmatic dawn; one that lent itself perfectly to shielding a creature from more unsavory neighbors.
Aisling was no stranger to the protocols of avoiding another's claim, and though this land was alien to her, the she-wolf figured rules remained in tact. The forest between the ridge and mountain had been exceptionally nerve wracking to traverse, but once she had cleared the treeline the pressure seemed to lesson some. The lords and clans of her homeland were a staunch sort, fiercely defensive but also wise and pacifistic, and though the pallid woman hoped these wilds harbored a similar sort, one could not be careful enough.
A precious twig of juniper and thrush of honeysuckle was clutched gingerly betwixt Aisling's slender jaw, an omen of good luck and a memory of a place far away... the life she had built, the ones she had loved, the friends and family she had cared for... all gone in the blink of an eye. Now, alone without her kin to lean on, the waif forged a new path despite the heartache that still lingered.