Winter had settled over them, the drop in weather bringing a drop to her mood that she can't control. Hazel has been contemplated, reclusive, giving herself over entirely to the work that would keep the pack running behind the scenes. Market repairs and improvements. Patrols. Patrols well on her own, far away from the others, for fear what her attitude may bring. Distant, but ah, she watches.
Raid day. There's always an excitement about it, hanging clammy and sweaty on her skin and tongue. Tipping her head to join in the call, unable and unwilling to stop herself. Distilled strength, and a hope that maybe this is the distraction she needs.
