Frostfire Ridge The things we love destroy us every time.

The stranger doesn’t have anything to offer and Ocra offers a sound of contempt. She huffs a breath out of her nose and turns away, shrugging. “Just looking for someone,” she says and licks her lips. Maybe she’ll just go all the way to her birth pack and visit them. If she can’t find the wolves she’s been looking for, especially a year late, she isn’t going to find them now. Move on, she thinks, wrinkles her nose, and then glances back to the stranger. She sort of of looks in her direction but her mind is miles off. She mumbles a quiet thanks anyway before she turns and departs in the opposite direction.