Swiftcurrent Creek all that remains

The winter winds brought with them the unfamiliar stench of an unknown beast – his call echoed across the lands with the request to hold counsel with the Alpha, yet Lethe had steadily been moving toward him before his song had begun – her creamy paws thrumming against the frozen ground, every so often sinking through the drifts of snow.

She was settling to this role with a silent acceptance and awakening gratitude – a herbalist in her youthful days, the honeyed she-wolf had not considered the possibility of leading before. Her days at Shearwater Bay had been spent seeking the knowledge of her mentor, and after his untimely death, her days after had been spent seeking the knowledge of the Tartok warriors, aiding Siku in her medicinal needs in trade for the prowess of battle. Lethe would never be a true warrior, but she had certainly learned to defend herself.

She came to him swiftly – the ever-growing pack had been enough to fully mark the territory borders, and the lithe she-wolf was pleased to see he awaited her presence ever so patiently – and politely, outside of her home. As she emerged from the shadows from the rogue trees that sheltered her home, her bright turquoise eyes ravaged over his figure.

Lethe had given her body to her gods – she would never share this temple without their approval, and yet that did not stop from a female’s eye appreciating what was before them. Her gaze would linger upon the missing eye, knowing there was likely an impressive tale to it. Moving forward with a grace she had only perfected over years of luring the male gender, her muzzle lifted higher in accordance to her rank, her eyes gleamed as they finally met his own. “Who are you and what brings you to my borders?”