Herbalists' Cache dewclaw mountain

She stirred. Slowly, but stir she did. It was the scent of crisp cold that drew her out of her curled warmth.

Out she stepped, and was immediately greeted with a solemn rush of aggressive wind that snapped the raw bitterness into her veins. Other Shore did not enjoy the cold, but she had learned to accept it. The beauty of the dawn compensated for her desire to return to that warmth and find herself in comforting sleep again.

It seemed that she was not the only one who found themselves a victim of rude awakening - silhouettes of wolves appeared to be rising, slowly but surely. She could not quite make out who exactly was who, but she took a little pride in the fact that she could recognize at least a few of them.

Her name then came riding on the wind.

Other Shore turned in the direction of the call. A familiar voice, she noted - Star Eater was her guess. She scarcely interacted with the rest of the Saatsine, after all, and she could not confirm if many of them even knew her name.

And so she ran, a neither desperate nor aggressive pace, merely an energetic one, meant to kick up the energy within her in this early morning.

She found herself little distance away from the heart of the Saatsine gathering, but sure enough it was Star Eater who had apparently called for her, sitting now outside of a den of some sort. Slowing her pace to a halt, she noted Star Eater's swollen belly, carrying the next generation of Saatsine. Not a gentle burden to carry, but she hoped it was a fulfilling one.

She greeted Star Eater, head slightly lowered as usual, though once again she gave away her curiosity as to why she was called at the peak of dawn.