Yara paused, her ears perking up at the sound of the Warlord's howl echoing through the Mile-High Woods. Confusion flickered in her sun-yellow eyes - she was supposed to be quarantined here, away from the pack.. yet.. the command was clear and urgent. She could not simply ignore it.
With a shake of her stormy grey pelt, Yara lifted herself up from the small cavern they had been residing in and began her journey home. Her heart was racing before she even started running, which surprised her - had she really missed being in the Col? She felt.. excited.. to return.. home. She moved swiftly but cautiously, her lithe body weaving through the gnarled trees that stretched towards the sky. Each step was precise, avoiding the many roots and underbrush that would cause her to trip. She was learning these woods.. she was becoming an Armada wolf.
The woods gradually gave way to more open terrain, the dense canopy thinned and the towering trees were replaced by lower vegetation and rocky outcrops. Yara kept her pace steady, her senses alert for any sign of danger that might justify the Warlord calling her back here. She did not know what to expect.
As she approached the Col, the familiar sight of the clearing's obelisk surrounded by mountains came into view. The towering peaks formed a natural fortress, and in the clearing stood the Warlord and his wife. Yara's heart quickened with anticipation and anxiety - everything appeared calm. She kept a safe distance away, not wanting to risk getting the pregnant alpha sick.
