The browncoated wolf had managed to trek herself all the way back to the northern continent without even fully realizing it. Maybe it was guilt for dropping her family and running off when they needed her, but if so it was buried under layers and layers of defensive adventuring and wanderlust. Maybe it was just that she'd gotten a craving for snow - which she had. The cooler fall weather in the south had gotten her thinking about glittering, frosty, delightful snow, and tunneling in it and throwing it and all kinds of fantastic things to do, and so she'd capered off north to find it. Instead she'd heard a call and, drawn by the familiar-yet-not voice, she'd bounded forward to investigate.
Stepping onto the strange surface of the long-gone river, she was delighted. But she was even more delighted to see the young wolf who'd called. "Hey!" she called out, trotting up to the gathered pair. "Hey, you're the guy from the place! What are you doing way up here?" For the moment she was oblivious to contextual clues like the new-pack smell and even the actual content of the howl. She was too enchanted with the marble beneath her feet and excited to see her fellow adventurer once again to pay it any mind. "It's Drashiel, right?
