Moonspear but be the serpent under it

Desdemona was always on the move, she knew who was awake, or who was walkng about and who was not. She was always patrolling or guarding, one and the same, and always kept alert to what was around. Mistakes were made at times, but she deemed to be useful in the only use she needed to have; to serve and protect. Life was full of more then that, but she felt that was her life, to become someone important to rely on.

Through the snow, a white wolf nearly blended in if she did not keep watch with keen jades. A nod to the other, an acknowledgement of their being, but in a way, that wolf seemed a bit off to Desdemona.