Vespers of Summer

She’d ventured out of the pack lands, howling to let Gwen know she was heading out to scout around, and perhaps explore further into the continent. At over a year and a half old, she’d barely scratched the surface of the world she lived in, and perhaps in her explorations, she’d find her center again.

She would be the first to admit that she felt like she’d failed in upholding the glory of the pack that had survived and revived over three—four? Generations. So, her paws had led her eastward. She’d been as far as the Bifrost, and she smiled at the memory of that day. However, she’d turned northward after a while, and found herself in the foothills of a great, dangerous looking mountain.

It hadn’t been the mountain that held her attention, though. Instead, she was sniffing at faint traces of a pack’s scent. Even that wasn’t the point that made her curious. It was the vague familiarity in at least one of the wolves that had been among the members. Family.

Hours later, she had delved into the territory that had held a large number, wondering that she and her father and Gwen hadn’t even been aware of the pack’s existence. Then again, with how insular Celestial had become… She supposed it wasn’t really surprising.

Her path had led her along steep, precarious terrain and trails, and at last, she stepped into a cave and let out a deep breath of mild relief at no longer being near a precipice. She’d have to make the same trek down, but it was worth it for the workout she was getting.