Silver Creek whispers the winds

 

Rowan took a deep breath of the cold, bitter air. Around her the winds whipped and swept through her coat, a cold frozen kiss of long-past lovers and the spirits that still followed behind her, kicking at her heels. Rowan followed @Casmir and his scent trail, occasionally leaning down to make sure she'd actually followed it properly. Without the children right next to them there was a different sort of air; she was not by any means a reluctant or unhappy mother; quite the opposite. She loved their children and had no qualms with telling them so - much to their dismay no doubt. There was still a particular feeling of freedom when prowling without them. Rowan hummed beneath her breath as she recounted on the old places she had once walked as a wolf of the Creek. Now it seemed bitterly empty, long since passed over by those who had lived there and those who might have come after. 

There were many ghosts out that night, no doubt.