Swiftcurrent Creek If ever I could love, I think it could be with you.

To leave Swiftcurrent Creek had been one of the most difficult decisions she'd ever had to make, but not one she could refgret. With Winter's approach and her firstborn missing, despite knowing that he had chosen to disperse, she could never forgive herself if she didn't try. So she did just that, and she searched with everything that she had through the snow and the wind, to find the boy who didn't want to be found.

Viinturuth made it perfectly clear that he had no intention of returning to their fractured family. Still, the russet Frostfur persisted for days - lingering at the outskirts of a territory belonging to the pack that chose to shelter her wayward dragon. She waited and waited, until the pale youth she'd bore of her own womb turned on her not with words - but with fangs.

Wounded, both emotionally and physically, Durnehviir finally returned to her home. She limped carefully, favouring a forelimb and painfully exhausted, but she pushed on through the night until she slumped pitifully in the snow. With what little energy she had left, the broken dragoness released a short call for @Constantine and hung her head, defeated.