Firefly Ravine the water i consume is you

2°, partly cloudy, late morning

Since her return, Thuringwethil has not ventured much farther than Drageda’s borders. She always wants to be somewhere close should the call be made that Wildfire is home, even though another part of her knows well enough it is not likely. At this point, if Wildfire is alive, she wouldn’t withstand the travel between the caldera and the cliffs. It is nearly a week for the healthiest of wolves, and one coming back from starvation in the threat of winter would take significantly longer. If something were to happen, she can only hope they’d send someone so they were not left clinging to lost hope.

The itch to stretch her legs holds out no longer and she finally gives in. She moves south, around the sound, until a narrow rivers appears from the tangle. Everything has already been mapped by several wolves that she moves with a confidence of conquered land. The cliffs in the distance open up to a ravine and she stays low, letting the walls of the gorge cloak her in shadows from the partly cloudy sky above. It has been a few days since snow has fallen, holding off a little while longer, and she simply moves with little intention to impact her surroundings.

She has not spent much time through these lands where a pack once called home. The death of their leader on her paws while her corpse remains on Sleeping Dragon. As far as the rest of them, she has no idea where they’d gone off to or if there are even any of them left. They barely hold a few thoughts in her mind before she wanders off again, surveying the distance across the river.

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