Swiftcurrent Creek I could be a morning sunrise

Mornings had never been a time that Solène treasured, for they meant rising before the sun to join Theomund in his circuit of their little nest of thorns and dead trees - round and round, over and over - to build character, ma petit, to invigorate the mind and, ah, body... And she knew she hadn't imagined how his beady eyes roamed over her form, even when she was so young. He'd trained her to be elite, the Queen of Spies, and yet she'd foolishly never seen him for the snake he was.

So, as we were discussing, Solène could barely abide by mornings in general, and detested freezing ones in specific, and so had no good reason to feel as contented and light-hearted as the birds who nestled next to each other in the leafless trees, warbling their good mornings. And yet that is where we find her, wandering beside Swiftcurrent Creek in the morning mists that the February sunlight had yet to evaporate. Recently gone from Lethe's presence, Solène as of yet knew only her rank of Kappa, and little else of what role she might fill in this pack

Having never been expected to work for her rightful place among wolves, and yet simultaneously having been trained for many skills that Theomund had deemed necessary for her success as a leader - well, as the seductress of a prince, for he'd never meant her to live long enough to rule - Solène was blissfully free from any obligations on this single day. Perhaps for this single morning - in the afternoon she might occupy herself as pack wolves do, however that was. For now, she was simply free from the anxieties that plague the lone wolf in the wilderness, and free from the past that weighed heavy at times on her shoulders, with all of those might-have-beens and what-if-I's. Liberty was a glorious thing.