I'd rather be dead than live a lie
BURN THE WHITE FLAG!

Darkening clouds were building up on the horizon, bleeding into a pale gray sky. Natha's nostrils flared as a cool breeze slipped through the branches of the oak tree she'd been resting in. She would need to shift her position soon to a place better suited for shelter but judging by the sky she still had a bit of time yet before the darkest clouds moved in. Getting to her feet she stretched, her claws nicking the tree branch. Sheathing them she shifted her position and laid down once more, her great golden eyes closing in contentment. Just a quick nap…

Naudir was drawn once more to the old stomping grounds of Yfir.  Every time she crossed into this territory she felt a pang in her heart.  She wondered if she would ever live to see the pack form again and part of her wondered if she might see her mother again.  Time seemed to march tirelessly on and she could scarcely believe that summer was right around the corner.  She was already in her third year and her thoughts drifted to her siblings.  How were they doing?  It felt like ages since she'd last seen Taufr and Runa.  She knew Ræsa and Ásvor were about but they'd long since parted ways.  She came to a stop, gazing at the sky.  Balthazaar and Branwen were perched in the middle of her back, their heads tucked and their bodies swaying slightly with the rhythm of her own. "Talk"