Alpine Lake run, run, blood

Backdated to a couple weeks ago!

Silaluk and her company scaled the mountain that made Alpine Lake with a swiftness that betrayed their dominance in this sort of terrain. What might be a difficult climb to any other was simple to the experts who had crossed through many a mountain to arrive here, and had fought upon plenty more than that. Silaluk was young, but her battle-scars left her true age to the imagination. Her experience was not lacking for her youth; she had seen death, and had been the bringer of it. Those whom had scarred her lost their lives for their (futile) efforts against her.

When they reached the peak, Silaluk took stock of her surroundings. In the distance was a chain of mountains that piqued her interest, and at once she knew that this would be the direction she would head. The herd conveniently zig-zagged in this direction, and after a night snowstorm had gained good ground away from them. Her head swung toward the direction of the crags to her right, but the blue in the distance—the ocean, she recognized—caught her eye, too.

She did not want to exhaust the reservoirs of her wolves energy, but training within the waters, cold as they were, would be invaluable. Ocean-fare was her preferred venue of choice, and she licked her chops. They would eat, but the herd they followed would gain more distance. Her ears flit as she debated the best alternative for them all.