Ankyra Sound the ships are left to rust

@Meteora

The familiar sight of the towering sequoias welcomed her silently as she passed beneath their ancient boughs. A weather eye would recognize her heading as she strode confidently down old wolf trails. When the first Sirens set foot on what was to be the newest settlement, Akantha was young and unrefined. Now she was wisened, hale, and resolute. She was not so superstitious as to assume that the ghostly visages of her past still lingered here. The only thing that remained of Ankrya Sound was the skeletal remains of old kills, and the faded, vaguely mammalian scents that still criss-crossed the heart of the forest. She missed them—regret was a familiar sting, and she worried constantly whether or not this branch would even reach the potential they hoped. The earthen she-wolf was a devoted thing; resolved to dig deep and stick it out to the bitter end.

She arrived the cliffs in little time at all and stopped just short of the edge. Akantha lept upon a fallen trunk and her claws scraped against layers of ice and snow as she scrambled to establish a solid footing. The same bitter wind lashed against her fur, but she stood fast against it as she cast her gaze out over the Sea. The islands off the coast were barely visable, and her eyes teared up from the shearing wind that assaulted her as she stood tall above the shore below. Akantha blinked away the sting and drew in a great breath, expelling it shortly after as a sigh.