Greatwater Lake as if i myself had no voice

astara rifled through the reeds, unaware of merrick's inward misgivings in that moment. had she known of his doubts, she still would not have succeased them. she was a wolf, not a sheep -- she could not be tamed or tempered, and no matter what domestic life was imposed upon her, would serve no soul save herself.

this part of her personality, even when laid bare, was unlikely to assure a wolf like merrick, who had felt the sting of loss early. yet, if it was any consolation, so had she -- and her rather simple outlook on life likely would make her more predictable for those who cared to spend time knowing her.

drawn to the goslings, astara did her best to wade silently through the water. ahead, she could hear the hushed trilling of a mother goose. somewhere along this embankment, there were goslings to be fed upon -- astara glanced once at merrick before lunging for the mother, assuming he would swoop in and kill what he could while she took the brunt of the goose's fury.