The night is my companion and solitude my guide [J]

@Majesty Set on the mainland.

The sky was laden with heavy grey clouds when Viatrix slowed to a stop on the shore with a slight adjustment of stance denoting her discomfort. After hours of constant travel, standing still was a relief, and allowed her to take stock of her surroundings. The scent trails of many wolves criss-crossed the sandy beach, suggesting it was a (painfully) high traffic route for her species. She supposed after dwelling on it for a short while that it was as likely to be a good thing as it was to be negative, and dismissed her apprehension.

There were two directions the lone female could go, and she chose left. Though she didn't consciously follow the scents, and instead wantonly traversed the uneven, cold Pacific sand, she nevertheless found herself eventually at a spot bordering the sea that was saturated with the scents of a handful of wolves.

Their presence indicated to the DeMonte female that it was some sort of gathering location, likely for wolves from the same pack, given there were no signs of aggressive struggle in the area. From the day she was old enough to experience the wanderlust inherent in her as a descendent of the mercenary Bronx, Viatrix had been a feckless female with flighty intentions. She would have passed by the scents without a second thought, if not for the reality hard-wired into her instincts.

The rigours of solitude took a greater toll on all wolves than the benefits of its faux glamour and appeal, and this was no different for Viatrix who, being a pragmatist, weighed the pros of seeking companionship in these few sea-faring individuals. Deciding it was better to take her chances, and with a combination of hesitation and nerves rocking her stomach, she tipped back her head to send up a lone howl, short and sweet and mournful as a wolf's could be.