Silvertip Mountain after dark

As the sun fell, Tonravik rose. She was not a creature of the night, no dark villainess that sought to bring ruin to the world; she hated the heat of the day, and her dark coat made it no easy feat to be productive when the sun was high. Tonravik would in time learn to cope, as she would have to. She had every intention of some day bringing Tartok and its legacy here. Perhaps even to the very mountain that kept her.

The bear of a wolf stalked throughout the night, thinking of her brothers. Sisamat—named Tonravik by her father—meandered with purpose this evening, her eyes hungry to catch something of worth, of merit. She had met Skyfall, and she kept them fed with his help. She was not his keeper, but they had become pack, and he returned to her. The powerful daughter of Siku did not know if she would join a pack before making her name here, or simply begin. There were worthy wolves, but she had yet to find them. It would take time, but it would be done. She was sure, too, that Tartok themselves would hear of the expansion, and perhaps even they would come.