Wapun Meadow And miles to go before I sleep

Tonravik saw her in the distance, and this time let Echelon bridge the gap between them. A low, pleasant growl was what came forth as she bumped roughly against Echelon, her own show of affection boasted in that show. A cutting wind came over the duo then, and Tonravik turned her head towards a small copse of cover. Gesturing to it, she pressed in that direction. There they would not be seen immediately, at least; though if their companion looked, she did not make it too difficult for them to be found. He knew of their presence where others would not.

Once there, Tonravik reclined to her haunches. She was eager for their start, and truly the woman did not know if she was patient or impatient. Tonravik would like to think she was the former, but the unpleasant itch she felt was nothing of the sort. The time to come made her a bit more irate than was the norm, and Echelon was the only woman whose presence she would be able to tolerate. Spring. Her heat had not come, and unlike her mothers first she had done nothing to delay it. Of course, Tonravik herself had no idea what was to come. As ever, she was a woman in the present.

And presently, her eyes dissected the world around them. She wanted lands that were ridden with permafrost. Where wolves unused to the chill in the thick of Summer might forget themselves and freeze, should they make a wrong turn.