Blacktail Deer Plateau ashes call my name

Sveinn. That was the name she recalled him giving previously, even if the memory was tattered and worn. Still, she rushed down the bank and met him on the other side. Only when he greeted her did she spot him, and her tail wagged with the excitement of seeing an old, familiar face. Without hesitation, she made her way toward him and gave him a nudge on the cheek with her nose.

“Yes,” she replied, drawing herself away from him. “Where did you go?” she asked. "And where are you going now?" she thought to herself. Perhaps, if circumstances had been different, she would have taken Sveinn as her mate. Or Cutthroat. Or Razo. Or Scimitar. She had surrounded herself with options and taken none of them. Instead, she'd scurried away to the plateau after she had thrown the crown in Bazi's face. Not that she was about to confess all of that just yet (or ever, for that matter).