i'm close but no cigar for you

Poem liked to patrol, it was one of the only normal activities she could enjoy. Everything else made her think of Motif, and even on half of her patrols she usually thought of her sister. She asked herself why she hadn’t told her where she was going. She hoped that was only it, her aunt Vail had just died, and while her mother had just lost her sister Poem didn’t want to say the same thing about hers. She tried to hold herself with confidence like the heir to Abaven shoulder, but her head was low and her ivory tail barely flicked at her pale hips.

She walked along Abaven’s borders, half sulking and half patrolling. Edgar played the part of lookout as they went, and he’d call at when he saw the form of another. Poem’s blue and lavender gaze was lifted and she was faced with the stranger, he didn’t look like any wolf she had ever seen. His fur was long and flowing, and his markings handsome upon his unique form. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do, he wasn’t threatening the border. She both wanted to talk to him and wanted him to go on his way. She stood silently, piebald raven on her back flexing his wings nervously.