Northstar Vale Therapévo

Antigone confirmed her suspicion—and rather than continue on about it, insisting the boy ask his father, she instead let the comment linger in the air—believing he would direct his thoughts there on his own if given a chance. She continued to rummage—plucking the leaves from the berries, and soon, when they had gathered more than enough for now, she began to look for something to carry their cargo to where it could be safe.

He asked her a question, and she paused, thoughtful for a moment. “I… took an interest when I was a little older than you,” she noted, tail giving an idle sway in the winter air. “I was in a pack of… peacekeeping wolves, of sorts, at the time. It became natural to assist others. And then I realized I wanted to do something to help make the world better, rather than worse… and over time, I learned.” She smiled, almost shyly at that, before turning to a tree, some rough bark sticking out. “I think I will always want to keep learning,” she confided.

Then, as she nosed at the tree, the silver wolf cast the youth a warm glance. “Think we can tear a strip of bark big enough to carry the leaves?”