redo för ett slag

It was rare Kiela ran into the same wolf more than once, but today was apparently an exception. When Víðarr's scent came to her attention at first she thought to ignore it, not because she hadn't enjoyed his company but rather the opposite. He'd made an impression on her in a way few wolves did and the camaraderie she felt with him was undeniable, which was exactly why she wasn't sure reuniting with him was a good idea. She wasn't the type to form attachments with anyone, no matter how small they might be.

Perhaps against her better judgment, she decided to trail after his scent and see where it led her. Maybe a reunion would lighten her mood. It wasn't at all lost on her either that the north had grown more populated as of late and it didn't settle well with her either. She found herself hoping that tending to her herd wouldn't send her trespassing into a pack's lands. Kiela would do what she needed to for her herd, though at what risk to herself?

She supposed that was a question for when a situation like that arose.

She was quiet on her paws as she navigated across the tundra. He was visible long before she could get his attention, standing alongside the strange stone structure she'd encountered before. Only when she was closer did she let out a bark of greeting, tail giving a slow wave behind her. "Been awhile," Kiela offered, her form of a simple greeting, as she strode closer.