The Heartwood vessels

It was cold enough that the air was beginning to take her breath and turn it into foggy puffs. It seemed that besides her breath, nothing moved in the silent forest. Ivev's eyes drifted up the tree trunks, landing on the statuesque form of a raven. Her people had stories about Raven, who embodied the second half of spiritual power, forever turning and fighting his brother. Where raven was associated with the night, moon, and other objects, the owl became the bringer of light and day. Ivev was always conscious of whatever energy she encountered, for it was always in relationship to lightness and darkness, the two basic forces of nature.

To her right, she could see the slope of grass that turned downwards to the large, sluggish river. Past it rose the flatlands, the closest thing she had come to of a tundra. But the most alluring object in her view was Rising Sun Mountains, their blue bodies capped in lines of white. In the early morning it was a magnificent view, with pockets of the dawn sun streaming down through holes in the clouds and illuminating the earth.

Ivev would've left the edge of the forest and walked closer to the river if she hadn't caught the scent of another wolf. Her white skull quickly turned to watch another figure trailing along the edge of the Heartwood. With an unabashed step Ivev made her way closer to him, remaining a distance away when she could finally make out his colorings. A tawny, brownish beige, the wolf seemed more preoccupied with the looming trees than anything else. Her paw frozen in the air, Ivev studied him curiously with a quivering nose and a pair of outwardly turned ears.