Lonely is the muse

Kiela

Things were changing, and Kiela worried intensely for her caribou. When she'd strayed from Hemlock she wasn't even sure now- though she had nothing against the pack, nothing had really tethered her there without Víðarr. Her herd needed her more than any wolf, and so dutifully she found them and followed them. When spring rolled around she followed them to the far northern reaches of Boreas, pleased at just how many young they birthed this year. The herd was healthy and well, and their good fortune persisted through the summer.

Until the blood red sky came, and tremors shook the earth. The north was not unaffected, but Kiela was ignorant to just how widespread these strange occurrences were. All she cared about was the health of her herd though, and so diligently she followed them. She'd seen how some prey animals seemed afflicted with something making them act strangely, but so far her herd was unaffected. She was pleased.

Today they were grazing lazily amongst the tall trees, idly scavenging for lichen. Feeling as though they didn't need her undivided attention, she made to scout around the edge of the forest. She paused near the edge of a half-dug hole, noting a broken piece of a deer antler lodged down in the dirt. Sniffing at the hole, she carried on, wondering if she'd be able to find anything else that might give some insight into what was happening in the world.

Login
Username:
Password:	Lost Password?
	Remember me

Lonely is the muse

for Víðarr

Kiela