Bearclaw Valley b

gonna sneaky sneak this into her timeline before Astara goes postal on Ikkalrok

she has been naughty, yet again. perhaps even naughtier, this time.

she has strayed far from her den, though in her (not so) humble opinion, she is now old enough to do so. she's seen all the sights around the place of her birth and she has bored herself to tears. Avicus finds the rock wall separating the valley from the rest of the wilds, and follows it, like a timid beginner on roller blades sticking to the edge of a rink.

the huge curved wall has an end, though, and she sees a tremendous entrance opening up into a field of flowers. now this is new—these are new sights. and with them comes company, for there stands the not-wolf, accompanied by one who is definitely wolf.

is that her voice, sent pretty into the air? she is intrigued by the sound of it.

Avicus breaks into an ungainly trot and approaches the mismatched pair, chin lifted in curious question. to the bear she gives a nod, like she had when they'd last parted, and says, good, in a bizarre sort of greeting (she's been practicing). to the wolf, she turns her cold indigo gaze and remains silent. her face is not familiar, and her scent not of the valley.

who is she?