we can sleep when we're dead

Aurielle slid through the snow and mists of the Moor, about twenty feet out from the wall, nose brushing the ground and scouting the air for scents that shouldn’t be there—namely predators. It was no concern of hers is loner scents coated the foliage. As long as they didn’t make the mistake of crossing into the territory, they were no issue of hers.

It was her favorite season, and yet… she was troubled. Amos’ scent had grown stale, and worry tugged at her breast. He would have said something if he was going out for an extended leave like this. Had something happened? Her breathing hitched with anxiety, before a form on the wall caught her eye, and she almost gratefully deviated to join Gwenevere on the wall, pressing to the older woman’s side to lend warmth if allowed.

She’d noticed the toll the season and heavy workload was taking on the aging Adravendi. Some instinct told her that her friend and fellow leader – her cousin, if not by blood – might not be with them for many moons longer, and that added to the ache in her chest.

The pack felt stagnant, even with her training regimen with Cairo. Few hunts, and certainly no pack hunts. She despaired and wondered if it would be kinder to disband and send the obviously unenthused pack wolves on their way. What after, though? She had been born and raised to lead, and she felt she was making a mess of it.

Regardless of the alliances she had forged recently, the future trade deals… things seemed to be falling apart. Her parents and brother… Perhaps it would be best to send them to the Nomads to heal.

“Do you wish to take tonight off? I can take the patrols for tonight with Cairo, and switch out with Justice, perhaps, after midnight...”

She knew Gwen was ill. And she worried that with the woman’s advanced age, Paladin wouldn’t be able to do more than try to make her life a little more comfortable.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think