ice ice baby

Pyrite was a young she wolf, but everyday of her life she knew the harshness of the Northern reaches. There was no forgiveness here, so it was only smart to work closely with her family. She didn’t often stray very far from her mother or father. Along with a challenge they were the only other constant. Her family meant everything. Pyr devoted her days to the tiny family group, but they worked together to survive like a little tribe and it was everything she wanted. The north was harsh but it was her home. She was most comfortable in the ice and the snow here with her kin.

They didn’t often see other wolves, they had their own territories to hunt and most kept to themselves. The majority of Boreas, she assumed, didn’t enjoy the chill of the north. Not that she knew much beyond her life here. She was out traveling with her father right now, scouting new lands, taking note of migration patterns. She still had so much to learn from him, it was a good one on one experience.

Pyrite had wandered away from camp as the night fell, she told her sire not to wait up and went out to explore on her own. The small young woman was fox like and easily traversed the top of the snow on her dainty paws. She was drawn in the direction by the eerie glow, but her curiosity was really piqued when she smelled cooking fish. It didn’t take her very long to see the fire as well as its master, and she hesitated at the edge of the light unsure if she should intrude upon this stranger.