Mount Apikuni That these hands of mine were clumsy, not clever

The woman smiled, her gaze drifting toward the mountains. They were, undeniably, a breathtaking sight, vast and imposing, but they had never truly called to her. She belonged to warmth, to golden afternoons where the sun kissed her sand fur. She could bask beneath its glow from dawn till dusk and never grow weary. Summer was her season, when the mountains shed their icy mantle and embraced the lush whisper of green.

Hemera had wandered these peaks for days, yet the air carried no trace of other packs. Perhaps few still dared to claim these heights. „Establishing relations with other packs is wise, gathering allies, fortifying your hold over the vale.” Diplomacy was a craft she knew well, though she had no doubt the Matriarch understood these matters just as keenly.

„Hemera,” she murmured, lowering her head in quiet reverence. She bore no allegiance to any pack, a truth made evident by the absence of their scent upon her fur. „Pleased to make your acquaintance, Matriarche.”