Lone Star Mountain ships on vigor of the waves are skimming

getting back into the swing of things when it comes to roleplaying. Be gentle <3

Wind raced on stormclouds and spoke to her of freedom.

The sun's path through the blue halls of daylight grew quicker, and as it made its exit in preparation for moon's longer reign, a grey-backed she-wolf made her departure from her natal pack's short-lived homeland. Eyes on yer 'orizin, ears ferwerd, nose at the wind. Each breath held long, cold wind drew into her lungs. Raen's legs felt unsteady as she departed from the Thunder Dome and made her way east. She'd never been truly on her own before, always a brother or sister or mum or da, but Ma had left home at her age, so why couldn't her daughter? 

Raen was a snow-pelted replica of her mother, desperate for more than the life of a rogue pack in the belly of a mountain. It was safe, but it wasn't what she wanted. 'ove ya, Mathri, prum'ce I send werd ta ya when me get the chance.

Her mother looked like she was about to cry. Her father didn't seem like he cared, but he was like that. Bet he was broken on the inside.

But on the heiress of a departed pack left to make her own story, to rebuild the legacy that her parents seemingly didn't want to. 

A pack o' me own? Pft, dat can't be too 'ard, can it?