Arrow Lake Fight the break of dawn

The large wraith moved slowly, but without trepidation; she moved with all the confidence of a drifting continent, uncaring in what it may inevitably collide with. Let it come. The first—and so far, the only—daughter of the Tartok matriarch was ready now to take on the world. The woman had many trysts with pack life, which she had enjoyed; but ah, now it was time to create for herself. The process would be a slow one, and perhaps it was not here she desired to create. Tonravik was very much so her mother, and yet, not her at all. She was strangely far more physical than she was; though perhaps this was because she only had brothers, and because her mother had only accepted her as she dominated them. Tonravik had proven herself time and time again. And yet, she had not been named the true heir; none had, yet. Siku had found her as she drifted from the lands of Lore, having left a brother she did not know—Ataneq—there to continue her legacy without her to guide him. Besides her father, Siku was the only wolf Tonravik could truly say she respected. She enabled her to go her own way, but her looming hand (fist, more like) was always a shadow she could feel.

Tonravik moved throughout the lands, tail swaying at her hocks as she lapped at a lake she had smelled a bit off. But ah, the silhouette of another caught her peripheral, and soon enough Tonravik strode in the direction of the creature who hated day, ascending to eventually arrive at the very same bluff the sexless being found itself loitering at.