Dragoncrest Cliffs If only I can be remembered

Each day is far colder than the previous. At first, it reminds her of her former home and the temperatures that would drop, but there doesn’t seem to be a slow point. There is more snow on the ground each morning and the wind from the sea bites just a little bit harder. She is lucky they have the cavern but she often wonders how things would have panned out on the mountain they formerly claimed, followed by the wolves they lost along the way. Some likely to survive and others not, but the thoughts are pulled away when the howl pulls her attention away.

With their loose fitting claim on the cliffs and without operating at maximum efficiency, the thought of others at her borders puts a weird feeling in her stomach. She does not anticipate any other Trigeda wolves with the weather as it is, hopefully they are smart enough not to put themselves in danger, but it isn’t until the distance is closed that she gets her answer. Seeing the two strangers confirms her suspicions and she slowly approaches against the wind, trying to hide the chill in her bones and the tremor shooting down her spine. They both look travel weary but one a little worse for wear.

Dark, hardened eyes scan the female for a long moment before she settles upon the male offering the support to his companion. Thuringwethil squares her shoulders and arches her tail tighter to fight the wind blowing around them. Expectantly, she arches an eyebrow in waiting for the sad story she'll need to consider.