Dawnlark Plains Kill your heroes and fly

Dwin had had a choice between turning back or going forward.

At the coast there, while feeling enchanted by the ocean and all the people she had met and things she had learned, she had been close to a breaking point too. It seemed that the more miles between her and Brecheliant were, the stronger was the pull to return. If memories of her home had dwindled a little, while she had still romped around the flatlands and wilderness, now they had a tendency to visit in her sleep. Vivid recollections of warm summer days with endless warmth, sunlight and all things great. There were now mornings and afternoons, when Warlord Svenson woke up with wet cheeks and huge sadness in her heart. 

She had made a choice - a difficult one. To move on. With a promise to herself that, when the time was right, there would be no shame to return to her family's nest to recuperate, to bask in love and affection and to tell all about her adventures. With a goal in mind for future, it was easier to cope with today and here she was - had walked along the coast, past a mountain range and entered an entirely different world. At first it had not seemed that different from the one she had left on the other side of the mountain range, but the knowledge of being now very far from her home gave the scenery entirely different set of shades and colours. 

There - she did not have to walk on her own for a very long time. For she spotted someone in the distance and upon coming closer she was glad to see another young wolf. Fully preoccupied - so that Dwin felt it would be rude to interrupt right away. She sat down and watched the other curiously.