Northstar Vale Therapévo

The woman was lovely. She wore colors that reminded Antigone of his sisters. Her voice was soft, warm, easy to hear. If he had considered running, it would have been enough to ground him. The young wolf had not met this one, before. He had heard his father speak of a healer and a Meadow but had not connected that the two were the same. Yet there she stood before him, asking if he was busy.

Antigone blinked, drawing his tongue nervously across his nose.

No, ma’am. I am not busy, he offered her in answer. The young figure looked a touch too serious for how gangly his body had grown. The ruff of fur around his neck had thickened nicely, warming him during the snowfall. The world felt cleaner to Antigone, when it snowed.

Are you searching for plants? came his hopeful query. The young wolf’s navy eyes searched her face.