Hushed Willows fluttering birds,

A young, silver wolf drifted from the willows. Desdemona was internally surprised how a yearling, could claim to be a leader, but remained with stoicism, understanding it wouldn't be polite. She momentarily glanced around to see if any else would follow, a guard of sorts- but none showed. It was only the young Queen, and the mercenaries who guarded each other, Osiris and Desdemona.

It was unknown pack after all, a coldness drifted off of her, "We are from Moonspear, I am Desdemona, and this is Osiris," she greeted with an ear flick, "we come seeking who has been affected by the weather, and how far it has gone."