Dragoncrest Cliffs We can hear when we are hollow

Nothing. Wasn't that the truth of most wolves' lives. He felt they must all do that from time to time, stumble around until they found somewhere where they could band together with others and find comfort. That was probably what his life would be if he hadn't found Etoille and if Antumbra hadn't given him a chance to prove himself. Nothing brought Aure here but the search for her sibling, but then what made her stay? He was back to his unspoken former question, only now he had grounds to voice it in a fashion.

Does your brother live here, then? he wondered, wracking his brain for any mention from any of Drageda's wolves about the distant north. He remembered Currituck suddenly and asked, are you from the big snow wolves' mountain? A friend of mine lives there. She didn't really look like a big snow wolf, but... then again, he'd never met one and didn't know how they might look. He'd expected large, strong wolves like Antumbra and Vercingetorix, but cloaked in white. He supposed her pelt matched, and she did have an assortment of scars that begged their own questions, which he kept to himself for the time being.

Aure seemed ready to say something, then seemed to redirect. Ephraim wanted to press her to continue if only to answer that question that was plaguing him as well—why did you stay—but she asked him something then, stifling his voice for just a moment. Not really, he admitted in a quietly abashed voice. I don't know much about the stars and... I really don't like storms. I try to watch the clouds though, predict the weather. But I'm no good at it.