Sea Lion Shores I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long.

For Mink!

Again, Durnehviir ventured beyond the borders of her home. With their number's increasing and ranks gradually becoming established, the russet Frostfur was content that the pack's land would be supported enough for her to have some time to herself. She did not travel far, however; the sea drew her in, and this time she meandered toward the coast to the East. 

On her previous visit to the Teekon's shores, her path crossed with a sandy wolfess by the name of Pebble, who had not been sure how she'd come to find herself there. Durnehviir had offered her the location of Ravensblood if she wished an audience with Constantine to secure a place among the wolves who resided there, but she'd heard nothing of her arrival. There was guilt, of course, for letting her continue on her own when she was clearly lost, but at the same time had to remember Viinturuth's teachings: the world's waifs and strays are not our problem.

He'd very much been a 'survival of the fittest' type, where Durnehviir wanted to take care of everyone. She was gentle and kind, like her mother before her, with a large heart and eagerness to please. She thought fondly of her proud uncle as she trailed through the loose, cool sand, and hoped he was doing just fine - wherever he'd wound up.

Pausing to look out over the rolling waves at the evening sunset, she couldn't help but wonder if he was looking at the same horizon and missing her as sorely.