Overture Downs In another perfect light, we run

Grey skies above—the silence of winter seemed more prominent now that she had taken her leave of Diaspora. Argent and River trailed somewhere nearby—likely exploring the surrounding valley, despite her quiet ushering of wishing them to remain close. They were growing fast—and that familiar itch began to plague the woman, creeping along her pelt. She did not wish for more children—not with her mate buried within the now frozen ground. And yet, was this not why she now sought change? Who knew what awaited her, now.

But first, she would need to determine where it was they would settle and rise.

Ivory fur glinted in the falling of the sunlit warmth. Lissome in her movement, it was with a step of graceful determination that she first noticed the silver figure not far off—the woman settling beneath the bare tree and looking skyward as if seeking answers.

Weren’t they all?

With the gentle lash of her proud tail, the exotic woman drifted closer, waiting for her presence to be noticed by the stranger.