where no leaf blooms or blushes

For Muirrin.

Leto was no fool. She could see the signs of a rough winter approaching. The nights grew colder, the herds had begun to grow restless and their numbers dwindled. Prey became scarce as old and sick ungulates either died from exposure or were picked off by the many predators that hungrily roamed the mountains. Bon Dye as a pack was faltering, due in part to their lack of cohesion and lack of leadership. Leto knew what they needed, and as the days went on and nobody stepped up to either explain the apparent departure of Jinx or to replaced her as the pack's regent, the half-coyote was devoting much thought to claiming the crown for herself. Her doubts, however, haunted her at night as she wondered if the pack would accept one of their own subordinates as leader, and if they would tolerate a half-blood as their queen, and if her age would not be too great a detriment to her authority and indeed to her capability to be a good Alpha.

So she kept silent for now, choosing instead to build a strong foundation of providing for the pack, and today she had chosen to scout further afield to add to their caches. A morning of mountainclimbing had brought her to a place that a pair of crows whispered about in their queer avian dialects, calling it Northstar Vale. The name was undoubtedly pretty, and with a stretch of imagination Leto could imagine that it might be a haven in summer, but under the season's light first layers of snow, all she could find were bare trees and dead grasses. Any prey had long since fled for warmer climates. Leto sighed, and was prepared to turn for home, but something compelled her to linger for a moment and soak in the early winter sunlight as she stood amidst a copse of skeletal birch trees.