Norðrljós

Inga stirred from her dreams, she could feel a stirring in the air, an electricity that rippled down her spine as her earthen eye's gazed out the opening of her den. Balthazarr and Branwen stood just outside the lip of her den. Their silouettes black against waves of green flame that hung in the sky and her eyes widened. "Norðrljós" she whispered, eyes drinking in the sight as a streak of bright magenta began to appear with the green. Rising from her den she strode out into the chill of the night, the stars lighting up the sky underneath the eerie bands of color. With a grin on her maw she howled for any pack members that might wish to rise and view the lights with her… and perhaps hear a few stories.

Branwen leaned against her left foreleg, Balthazaar against her right as they watched the lights in silent awe.

"Speech"