Moonspear tooth-hurty

Lyra had spent most of the morning in the lower slopes of Moonspear, sorting through frost-touched ferns and trying to scavenge whatever herbs she could find which had not yet succumbed to winter. It was not a fruitful search, and the Ostrega woman realised she would have to go further afield if she were to find anything of real use. Her medical stores were getting lower and lower each day.

On her journey back up the mountain, Lyra had gained a shadow along the way. She did not realise it at first, until she heard heavy footfalls behind her each time she paused. Surely one of the pups, she thought with a mischievous smile. They were still quite clumsy in their growing bodies. With practised stealth, the woman quickly stole away into the surrounding woodlands, blending effortlessly into the darker under-brush. There, she waited for her nephew (or niece!) to appear on the path, her tail twitching back and forth in anticipation.