Kintla Flatlands my heart will be blacker than your eyes.

Psamathe's vision urged their party to turn northwards, promising a reunion with their Mother — and though Aktaiê wanted very much to run without stopping to the Sea's embrace, she had decided they would take their time. Others were coming, strengthening their number... a welcome blessing, and one that would solidify their claim when the time came. Greatwater Lake was their temporary camp, where they drew strength from its small link to the Sea, where others would continue to gather. In another night, perhaps two, they would continue north and settle upon the shores that awaited.

Still, Aktaiê was restless in the night; on this night especially, with the Mother Moon gone from the starscape that was endless above them. Thankfully, in this neutral territory, the many packs that inhabited the Wilds were little threat and not quite so nocturnal. It gave the priestess the freedom to explore without Greyjoy at her back like a shadow; a presence she was accustomed to, but one she sometimes wished she did not have.

With dawn's light threatening to trickle over the horizon, Aktaiê supposed she should return to the others for their circle of watches and sleep — it was hours, yet, but they would want to hear of the information she had gathered in the night. A soft thump sounded nearby, and the priestess paused in her gait, ears and eyes alert. As her gaze swept the landscape for danger, it came to rest upon the small form of another wolf.

Now this was interesting.

Aktaiê approached the other's back, her movements lithe and silent. "You're alone," she murmured gently, and it was not obvious if she thought the other could hear it or not.