There was a nice flat rock on the edge of the Estuary that Harlow had claimed for herself seasons ago. It was big and black, and warmed quickly in the sun which was precisely why Harlow was loving it so much now. She lay stretched out on her belly with a thin rectangle of wood pinned under one paw. In her mouth was pinched a piece of charcoal that she was careful scratching on the piece of wood. One of her favorite things in the world was bees, but in talking to others she was always disappointed to find most were oblivious to the many intricacies those little bugs possessed. To remedy that she was going to make pictures of the different types of bees that were out there. Starting with a sketch. Laying close by was a dead honeybee she'd collected after a particularly harsh freeze. It seemed he'd died during the night and his hive had disposed of him and the other fallen soldiers in the morning. From that pile Harlow had collected both a drone (the guy at her paws) and a worker. She was going to sketch them both if this sketch turned out. This whole sketching business was a new venture for her, but if others could then she would master it and add it to her repertoire. While she did her best to copy the bee, Harlow thought about the days ahead. She was thinking of heading east to a pack her father had spoken of once. An ally of Valhalla who had taken him and his siblings in for lessons in years gone by. Her father wasn't one for packs and Harlow wasn't sure she was either, but she was ready for a change and willing to give structure a try. Was that the right choice, though? What if it was time to go back to the band? She missed it sometimes. The chaos and camaraderie. It was weird to live so close to a large group of wolves and never hear big knock down, drag out fights and raucous laughter in the middle of the night.

Finally Caelia found she had something to look forward to: Valhalla's upcoming raid. Sure, it was for practice, but it was still something. That wasn't to say that her future was entirely bleak, or anything quite as dramatic as that - her restlessness wasn't anything quite that catastrophic. But it was still there, nagging at the back of her mind and causing her to travel outside of Valhalla's lands more and more frequently these days, as if she was searching for something she wasn't quite sure of yet. Caelia rarely went far from Valhalla though. Especially with the upcoming raid she wanted to be close to home and work on any preparations that might need to be made.

That was why she'd headed to the Estuary. She found it as good as place as any to steal some time to herself and temporarily help dampen her thoughts. The birdsong that this place was filled with helped her zone out the rest of the world and her own buzzing thoughts. Only when a vaguely familiar touched her nose was she jerked back to reality. She slowed her steps, trying to place a name to the scent. It was one of her brother's kids. Truthfully Caelia hadn't even known they were around still - apparently they hadn't decided to call Valhalla home after all - but at least one wasn't too far. Harlow, wasn't that her name? Caelia moved slowly toward the scent, pausing as the yearling came into view, lying with something clamped between her jaws. She hesitated for a long moment before approaching, giving the young woman a little nod. "Harlow, isn't it?" Maybe she'd be down for a quick chat, if nothing else. She hadn't really had the opportunity to get to know her nieces and nephews and she did want to, even if they chose a different life than Valhalla.