Shadowwyn Moor Muradoii

The shadow and the ghost moved with such a fluid effortlessness. One which came from being among the herds all their lives. Meleys had only ever lived off the caribou. She knew nothing of chasing down rabbit, wading in the shallows to fish or snatching birds from the air. 

Meleys looks to the caribou now. They huff into her direction, stirring warmth into the cool air. Meleys woofs low back. They know already by now that they would not be hunted by her. While they were strong and healthy, they had nothing to fear. Especially so, they needed not fear for the lives of their calves. 

Meleys might of made a good cattle dog, in another life. 

The woman then sat, watching a young buck, no more then six months, jumping, prancing, testing his elders patience. He had seen Meleys the majority of his life. He keeps at a distance by his mother's orders, yet bounces around playfully in front of the the older wolf, as though a bit of daring taunt. 

Why is it you left your former clan? Her mismatched eyes turned to the pale woman, fitted to the hazy winter gloom around them. She was colored like the clouds above and carried a confidence and demanding presence which mimicked Meleys own. A subtle, primal northern beauty.