Ghost Lion Crag In the hall of the mountain king.

Thinking about everyone who'd walked out of her life for one reason or another left Towhee feeling cold and more than a little hollow. But looking at Hydra put some warmth back into her chest. She paid close attention to Isi's description—in between careful placements of her feet on the icy stones—but said nothing further until the pair of she-wolves reached the level ground near the corner of the copse, somewhere in between the two cascading offshoots of Alpine Lake.

"I just feel like, if there's anywhere someone could easily get lost, it'd be in the slough," Towhee opined randomly, her voice a little breathless after the arduous climb. She didn't waste time, quickly breaking onto a ground-eating lope in that direction. She didn't forget to turn sideways and bump her muzzle against Hydra's cheek as they strode abreast. "Thank you," she murmured.

A companionable silence fell between them then as they approached the ruffian forest. Of course, the world was always silent for Towhee, though she could feel the rhythmic beat of Hydra's footsteps, steady and reliable like a heartbeat. Life had been hard lately, lonely, but with her sister, her daughter and her pack, she felt a lot less alone than she had just an hour ago.