Hushed Willows A Silent Retreat

Not running. Searching. And for what, she did not know.

This was the plight of those without the Rhythm. This was the directionless life those who did not know of it were often destined to live. A life of endless wondering; a life oblivious to the paths laid before them; a life spent fumbling blindly in the dark to find a way forward.

And how could they live any differently? When they were not aware of their own purpose. Were not aware that searching was part of the divine plan. Part of their True Fate.

And how could one ever truly find satisfaction in their life if they did not know it was their duty to hunt for it? (Sheer luck, Winter’s Wake supposed. But wasting ones days waiting for Lady Luck to happen upon them was a task for lazier wolves.)

I feel as you do, the snowpanther admitted. I come from a vast place, where I knew many wolves. Being alone does not suit me either. But unlike his companion, Wake had a goal in mind. His loneliness was intentional, and he held in his mind a clear idea of what he worked towards. But I am here to raise up a pack of my own. I hope not to be lonely for long.