Between two lungs

Winter was coming. Kirsi, a wolf deeply familiar with the most brutal of winters, could feel the winter's approach deep within the bones. The autumn was turning out to be quite a mild one, but the telltale signs of winter's approach were here; from the way that the days were already beginning to grow shorter, to the morning frost that often lingered until midday. The cold didn't bother her, she wouldn't allow it to. Despite her small stature, she was born of a line of wolves well-adjusted to the bitter climate of lands far north of here, and likewise she was blessed with their thick undercoat. That thick fur no doubt made her look a touch more solidly built than she really was.

Pausing to lift her slender muzzle, she sniffed at the breeze that whisked past, disrupting the few stray pine needles beneath her paws that hadn't been embedded in the dirt, frozen under the spring thaw. There was nothing to note on the breeze, which was a good thing.. wasn't it? While part of her was comforted by her relatively quiet life within Winterfell, a much smaller - and frustratingly quite loud, at least lately - part of her craved something more. There was a certain boredom that lent itself to this life; though she was sure there were more ways she could occupy her time, from participating more in pack affairs, to working on progressing her own skills... there was still the aching feeling that something was missing.

No, something would always be missing. For the briefest moment she was reminded of her children, but she forced the thought away as quickly as it arrived. Time to move. Veering around the nearest pine tree, she redirected her path toward the borders, on high alert as she moved. Maybe scouting for a bit would help distract her restless thoughts, if only briefly.