Moonspear by a route obscure and lonely

By now, Alya knew the scent of danger. She was long-legged and quick, but not quite grown out of the chubbiness of her youth - that was a blessing in this weather. It was good that she was not yet the scrappy teen that she would soon become. If it were not for the extra layer of fat that laid over her vitals, she might've been a lot less comfortable in this sudden bout of bad weather. As it was, the occassional shiver rippled down the princess's spine as she trailed along the edges of Moonspear, watchful and alert. She was sure her parents would not approved of her being out this far on her own, but she was loud, and they would know if she needed them.

But she knew the scent of danger, and this was not it. This was wolfscent, young and sorrowful, and Alya peered through the gloom for signs of the strange male.

"Come out," she said softly, but like all her words, they rang out clear and bell-like through the cold. She just didn't know how to be quiet, how to be soft.