Silver Moraine you were one of those classic ones

It was the soft caress of the wind that brushed against her pelt so delicately, and yet so rough - it was like the tender embrace of a lover, but twinged with cold. Laced with ice. It trembled through her fur and left shivers in its path, swishing against her cheeks and rushing down her sides, where her stomach rose and fell with the slowing thud of her heart. Without the pressures of her situation and the paralysing fear tied to her limbs, the ghost felt terribly empty. Almost as though she longed for the pain to return only to feel something other than numb, anything to show she was still alive and not simply a walking corpse, deceased to the world's woes.

Like the tickle of a feather against her leathery nose, a scent washed over her and caused the former queen to pause. Her breaths halted altogether, body frozen and mimicking that of a startled deer in the headlights of a car; the scent was familiar, and yet distant all the same. Cerulean orbs flickered upward and trailed the line of trees, plush ears cupping forward upon her crown to pick up any sounds from her bleak surroundings. They only settled when sight of a dark male was caught in her vision, fur swimming in the waves of the breeze - she could not distinguish his features from her distance, but beckoned him forward in silent question.

She was not alone here anymore, and the thought both comforted and perturbed her. Something about his scent called to her, called to memories beneath the surface of her mind. Usually she would have fled, hidden by the shadows of the ditch like a frightened rabbit, but where would she possibly go?