Ankyra Sound it's such a bad town for such a pretty face

Set on the 9th before the brunt of the polar vortex sets in (for my own reference).

Ankyra Sound was much farther north than she anticipated, and she attributed it to her spotty memory of the area and the weeks proceeding her disappearance the first time around. As she descended the cliffs, she almost hoped to catch a glimpse of Caiaphais, but found nothing but old scents and ancient ghosts of a territory long abandoned by the vestiges of whomever deigned to remain after the Sirens departed. The sea-witch had taken her in, fed her, warmed her, and gave her the security of a pack for a few weeks while she recouped from the ordeal that seperated her from the Nereides the first time around. The ordeal she still could not remember.

But it didn't bother her now as she plodded through the woodlands that rimmed the coast below of her, albeit brief, home. There were traces here and there that gave her reason to believe that it survived much longer than the Sirens presence did, and she wondered if Caiaphais was the source of that success. The Sea still rolled in, the winds still whipped up the cape and over the cliffs; it was inhospitable now with the season and the proximity to the pack to the north. She had no illusions of settling here. It only served as a reminder of her failure to Aktaie and Aella. 

A snapping twig broke the peaceful silence and her entire body immediately tensed. Her hackles lifted like spines, but her display was shortlived as a buck and his doe broke out from the undergrowth and balked at the sight of her. Akantha watched passively as the buck stared her down before quickly herding his female away from the predator. Though she was hungry, she was not in the mood to take her chances with those tines.

She seated herself abruptly on the snow and lifted a leg to dig at an itch behind her ear, wondering if she should return to Meteora sooner rather than later.