Duskfire Glacier quoth the raven, “nevermore”

Ceres was pleased to learn as she crossed the wide taiga that she was yet as nimble and lively as a wolf early in their prime. Having lived in one place with limited travel for a handful of years with her mate and offspring, she'd have thought her endurance would fail and her energy would flag on long trips. Instead, her vitality laid dormant in her breast and sprang to life at the first hint of a challenge. A faint grin pulled at her cracked lips as she surged up a hill, drinking deep of the taiga air, which was crisp even in the warmth of summer.

The sun was falling low in the sky, teasing shades of pink and cream from the western horizon. The she-wolf paused to appreciate her surroundings, flipping her rounded ears forward as she looked up. From her vantage point, Ceres noted the glacier and mountain towering in the near distance, and though she could not see it, she could smell the salt of the sea. She inhaled and held her breath a beat, appreciating the coastal tang in her nose. Ceres so wished she could be like the sea: an unstoppable force, ever changing and adapting.

Age kept her rooted in practicality, even still, but she wished nonetheless. She pressed onward, undaunted by the glacier looming ahead. She was much too eager to see the world beyond it. As a girl she'd wanted to experience the entire world. That desire stayed with her even now, driving her forward until she came upon the intertwined trails of two wolves. She made the decision then and there to shed timidity and pursue them in hopes they could point her in the direction of others.

It was some time before Ceres spotted them, but when she did, the small Arctic wolf picked her pace up into a rolling canter and called out a breathy, "Excuse me!"