Dragoncrest Cliffs may queen ode

it isn't without some reservations that Avicus comes here. she'd left brief word upon her departure, but her grief and rage had choked her to the point that words—and she isn't good at those, anyway—could not properly depict the situation.

she is stronger, now. physically and mentally. she drags along the haunch of a mule deer that had perished in a snowstorm, subsequently buried under the cold expanse. it had frozen, preserving the meat.

it is a gift. . .and an apology.

she'd promised to help, right? when they had helped her. in her eyes, Avicus had failed, and unlike so many that had done her wrong, she had received nothing but kindness from the wolves of Sapphique. the guilt gnawed at her every bone, and she had vowed to come back.

she places the limb upon the frozen ground and calls out, the distant roar of the sea pulsing as one with the beat of her heart. 

if they will not be packmates, perhaps they can be allies.