Arrow Lake relict

Not at the scene, as she wouldn't leave her pups or bring them there. The mountains, at times, were full of trickery. At times, it was almost as if the echo of sound could be heard as clear as day… while other noise was lost among the cavernous rocks and cliffs.

Ketzia gave pause outside of her den, ears tipping forward as a ripple seemed to flex through the air—a current of foreboding. Had that been Stigmata’s bellow? Her own jeweled eyes drifted to her three offspring, each enjoying the day and what it had to offer—her heart soaring to see Trench finally beginning to thrive, even if still sickly.

Her tongue swept out, pressing the flutter of foreboding from her feathered chest as she nudged an antler to her three mischief-makers, summarizing the muffled shout for her beloved’s son only to be a trick of the wind. There were a great many times she hated this cold and calculating mountain.

As she pulls a squirmy Argent to her side, her tongue smoothing over the boy’s nape in an attempt to clean some of the rough and tumble mud upon his stark silver fur, it is then that the anguished howl echoes across Diaspora and the foreboding she had felt before intensifies, leaving her in a sweep of cold panic for a moment.

She blinks—pausing, waiting for more news. She is met with silence as Blodreina’s song fades and looking down to three youthful babes, she attempts to mask her worry with a forced smile, nudging them once more to explore the gifts she had brought them.

Her heart hammers so loudly in her chest that she wonders if her pack mates can hear that echo across the ravenous mountain they called home.