King Elk Forest the green seat

It wasn't the loneliness that fettered her heart, but more so the doubt that had crept in as each day passed. Her fortitude was what kept her moving each day, and as the days began to grow longer with the promise of winters end, the ivory nomad found herself skirting away from the isle she intended to lay claim to, favouring exploration while it remained a possibility before her.

The Hinterlands were peaceful—both unnerving to the she-wolf who had come from such chaos in earlier years, and yet relieving as she would endure and mend a broken heart. What was taken from her in the past—the love she had buried—was left upon the mountains, and each day ached less as it passed.

Never before would she have thought to be so numb within.

The flex of her muscles gave way to the lean sinew beneath her pale fur—the glint of ivory and honey warmer than the snowy ground. The promise of winter’s unrelenting grasp roiled above in the sky, and it was with flashing jade eyes that she found the silent form of another. How long had it been since she had kept company?

She cared not to dwell on it, if only for pride sake.