Sawtooth Spire i can still feel it saying we will never break the chain

so this was sagtannet. she is a speck in the gloom, as minute as the delicate presence of a singular snowflake being thrown throughout the vast, nefarious expanse of the night skies. an ear flicks and a sigh shudders out to disrupt the pressing silence for the briefest of moments; that is the most significance she has granted herself in the past what..weeks? had it been a whole month? that ability to break the silence, if only for a moment. yet she was here, having dragged the infirm vessle she'd been forced to writhe within for sickly weeks to high peaks that sneered down on the rest of the world. she does not ride on their backs today, does not feel the power of such brazen forces nor does the sharp stardust air leave her dizzy with euphoria and she does not feel invincible. tonight all the wonders around her are but stark reminders that she, tundra, is an infinitesimal dot on the universe that could be removed with a mere sweep and was utterly useless. she shivers amongst the icy claws of winter stroking the curves of her form hungrily, it wouldn't be long until they would push through and sink into her entire being so that she would fall and succumb to the cold, she still does not move.

andraste was dead and wintersbane had merged their pack with the shadowy man she'd come across before, mahler's diaspora. so now they were sagtannet, rulers of the mountains. all the while she'd twisted and writhed as sickness had festered within her,  taunting and leering as she cried and hissed against invisible monsters and feverish horror stories. not wanting to bring such a thing into the rest of the pack she'd stayed far away and freezed it out, and woohoo she'd done it so now she got to feel...numb and...pretty fucking alone. she should probably tell @Wintersbane she was 'better' now yet the thought was left unanswered and soon drifted off into the twisting abyss of her brain. she smelled like sagtannet but the name felt empty in her mind. 

dry lips part "sagtannet" not much better rolling off her tongue it seemed. eyes narrow and she glares down at the shadowed lands stretching away before her, not much came to a mind usually so active. in a state as wearied as it was after weeks of such inner torture, all it could muster was a half hearted 'fuck this'.

Ainhoa wanted to take a short break from their preparations. She frequently checked on the whelping site to see the progress being made. @Quellcrist was doing her part, so it would be no time before their gift was ready for presentation. Later in the evening, she would get back to cleaning but was content to rest for the morning and afternoon. 

The frame of a stranger was barely visible against the white winds. Ainhoa trotted up with wary gaze and stood a few feet away, quietly observing. Hello, she called, We haven't met yet. There was a strange odor that put her on high alert, but she knew to keep these thoughts to herself.