Sunspire Mountains sleepy fox hollow

UUMMM... I tried but I can't resist. I'm going to pretend that Aktaiê is scouting ahead or something.

It had been a full cycle of the moon since she had left Themiscrya with the others; they had kept to the coastline as best they could, but circumstances had eventually led them inland. She missed the Sea, the whispers of Her waves and the smell of Her salt. Aktaiê was a High Priestess of the Nereides, but she had never quite believed herself to be as deeply spiritual as her peers. She craved action and adventure far more than more meditative pursuits, but with the Sea now so distant there was an ache and emptiness she hadn't expected to feel. It was likely worse for the others.

But she was to be their Matriarch, she was their acting leader, and so she had to be their strength. If she was their connection to the Sea, she couldn't let them know how weakly she currently felt it. "Rest," she had commanded them. "I will scout ahead."

Skirting westward around the base of the mountains that rose up to block their path, Aktaiê silently prayed that she was heading in a fruitful direction. Although far from the crashing waves, the Nereides believed that all water originate from — and returned to — their beloved Sea. It lacked the rituals she was used to, but the priestess felt in her blood that the prayer would be heard. "Great Mother, lead me to the place that shall further our cause."

Almost immediately (and very inexplicably), the lithe siren felt the urge to climb the rocky wall to her right. She had grown up dancing up and down the footholds of the cliffside that rose up around one of her homeland's coves, and it would be an easy enough feat... but Aktaiê knew there couldn't possibly be an ocean on the other side. Her paws shifted in decision for several heartbeats before she finally decided to heed her instinct.

As she had expected, the only ocean there to greet her was one made of trees. Pausing after stepping beneath the foliage, if only to confirm that fact, Aktaiê loosed a gentle sigh of frustration. If there was nothing here she was meant to find, why had it felt so compelling? Before she could turn and go back the way she had arrived, however, a young voice rang out — carried by the wind, and with it, the scent of another wolf.

On alert, now, the priestess followed her nose until she caught up to a smaller, darker female. "Autumn is coming," she agreed, her voice gentle, "but there are still a few more nights of summer."