Moonspear so if you meet me, have some courtesy

♥

as the breeding season trudges on praimfaya begins to understand a little bit better what hydra spoke of during the meeting. the scent of pheromones that several (?) of the women of the spear have been putting off — though they are squashed by the fearsome queen — do not go unnoticed by the tau. still; her understanding of the mechanics of how it happens are unknown to her, though by now she understands that the scent of heat is what leads to cubs.

assimilating herself to moonspear was beginning to become easier ...if not routine. still, she stays with dacio and opalia not really venturing out of her own private little circle. the feeling that she's lost her identity in a place where wanheda ( understandably ) means nothing is still hard. hard for her to adjust to, hard for her to look to the uncertain future with any sort of confidence. her confidence, she suspects, will take longer to heal than she originally thought. wallowing; however, isn't praimfaya's style so she finds solace upon the borders and pleads for linkoln to give her the advice, the clarity that she feels she so desperately needs.

perhaps the spirit of the first commander-of-death, too, feels the sting of her failure.

at some point though praimfaya failed to take note of when, snow had begun to fall. it doesn't bother her, in truth. she keeps moving along the borders, pausing here and there to mark them and scan the neutral territories right next door for any signs of activity. they are quiet and it isn't until her path crosses with hydra's fresh markings that she comes across anyone else. the alpha female is further ahead of her and praimfaya lets out a chuff of greeting, sure that the queen of the spear will hear her.