Duskfire Glacier you ever go hungry 'til you keeled over?

Hope you dont mind a Metis!

It was a rare thing when the firestarter chose to be philosophical. She preferred to let life pass her by, unknowing and unseeing of anything she caused.

It wasn't like that now. 

She thought of it as she walked. The snow piled on her shoulders and her head, burying her in white. She was a ghost, now, little more than a wraith of the white glacier. She thought of her home, the Weald and the Shadewood before it. She thought of her brothers, why she hadn't dedicated herself to finding them. And, well, that was simple wasn't it? They’d blame her. She was the problem child, the reason her mother had left, the idiot kid who didn't know or understand what she was doing to the woman when she ran off in pursuit of glory. Metis wasn't the future of any pack.

She was just Metis. Just the white, haunting ghost, her monochrome mother’s opposite. So, on she plowed through the snow, fueled by her own bout with teenage angst. The only thing to draw her attention from it was the moaning and wailing of something distant. It connected to something in the hindbrain of the girl, some old predator’s instinct from way back when, when her ancestors had first developed teeth and taken their first meals. Helpless, small creatures, it whispered, needed to feed the strong.

She turned, unerringly, towards the cries. It would only be as she drew close that she would recognize the wolf notes, and stop, a vision of white in the middle distance. Then, she would raise her nose, howling a haunting note in reply to the wailing. She did not know this wolf’s angst, but she would share it.