Swiftcurrent Creek LET HER GO, BOYS | join

One creamy paw stirred the snow beneath her curvaceous figure – the trace of designs held only the intent to reach the bottom to the dead grass, her eyes narrowed as a chuff escaped her muzzle. The vapor of her breath furled from her nostrils as she cast an irate snort, lifting her muzzle up sharply as a bark issued across the silence. Her current task at studying the earth she had claimed for potential herbs come the spring would be postponed for now – her lithe frame gave a light shake of her honeyed pelt before her paws carried her in the direction of the summon.

It was quiet about the Creek – the trickle of the moving waters had died down even since she had laid claim – the winter maintained its cold, and with it, the waters continued to freeze. Spring would be upon them soon – a time she held uncertainty for. Her own thoughts trailed to her daughter – left in the grasp of the tribe which had claimed her. She had considered Sotiria to be her only child, yet now, at the helm of a growing pack, would nature not reign and demand children of her to help the pack flourish?

Yet this thought was easily dismissed as her business came to view. He stood – past her borders, and yet humble enough. Still, her fangs gleamed in the light as they slid past her lips at his initial mistake, and moving closer to him, she would heighten her dominance by stance alone, her pelt bristling. Her aqua eyes regarded him softly, noting the monochromatic fur he held. “You've summoned the Lady of the Creek,” she began, her voice lilting in its wispy tone as it carried across the winter breeze. "What is it you seek?"