Bearclaw Valley Green, green thunder and the loud, loud rain

From the wolven remains shown to her by Athalia, she had selected a shoulder bone to carry with her. The sisters would stay here, it was decided, in the wordless understanding that was their birthright. Amneris set about finding a place to sequester themselves in the night.

Amneris found a den, an old place with old scents of wolves long gone. Once the home of her forebears, though she did not and could not know. The birthplace of the father she would never know; the sacred chosen space of the grandparents whose stories she would never hear. Yet it called to her, called to the blood of this valley which flowed in her veins.

The child set about clearing the debris and dust of abandonment and time past. Hers. Hers. Theirs.