Swiftcurrent Creek Every single word builds up to this moment.
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@Rysk! Sorry for the delay in getting this up.  :X

The violent loss of Ingram, despite knowing him only as Wylla's brother, had been difficult to process. While the russet Alphess had not gone out of her way to get to know either of the coastal wolves and quietly held onto the grudge against them, she'd never wished any harm to come to them. She and Constantine had made this clear in the extension of an olive branch to both - an opportunity to start afresh, despite their poor first impression, and a chance for them to belong after whatever had ousted them from their pack on the shore.

After seeing the remains of their young pack-mate some days before, Durnehviir had held her children a little bit tighter that night. She pulled them to her breast and buried her snout among them to breathe deep the comforting warmth of their scent, to feel them close to her and be thankful that they were safe. 

She hoped that Wylla, wherever she'd wound up, was taking care of herself. Her maternal instinct drove her to find the mottled wolfess and check in, but part of her wished to leave her alone to process the demise of her sibling. When last Durnehviir had expressed concern for the other female's well-being, they'd ended up baring fangs and spitting blood at one another - with this in mind, she felt it a better idea to give her space.

She'd already decided that the time to call the group together would be in the near future, but the reason behind it was now tainted with sorrow following Ingram's death. Although the predator that took his life had moved on from Swiftcurrent, she strongly felt that the pack deserved to know what happened on their land, and so racked her mind for how to approach their companions with such news. She figured it would be best to discuss it with Constantine, whose experience as an Alpha far outweighed her own.

She lay in the afternoon sun just beyond her whelping burrow, in which her children slept. Trying to relax, she cast the darkness of her thoughts aside and let her muscles slacken beneath the sky's gentle heat, enjoying the soothe of her shoulders. Muzzle propped atop an outstretched forelimb, she kept a ginger ear trained in the diriection of her den for any movement within, and closed her soft eyes.
everything mortal fades away in time, but the spirit remains
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Every single word builds up to this moment. - by Durnehviir - May 31, 2018, 03:04 PM