Why had she joined Secretua, anyway? The only reason she had even arrived here was because of the storm. Stupidly -- and perhaps a bit dangerously -- she had made the decision to seek shelter in a random pack's lands amidst the storm. It had only been by some stroke of luck that she had known someone within the pack, a male named Eirik that she had met once before and had honestly been intrigued by. Of course, her simple act of rebellion had helped her along; she'd decided, in one final push of defiance, to leave her family behind as the storm began to brew. Saga had known she wouldn't be missed right away, and even now she wondered if they had noticed the quiet girl's misplaced presence.
She was as quiet as a mouse as she traversed the prairie, her paws seeming to glide over the grass as she moved. The landscape was still this morning, the grass frozen over with the morning frost as winter slowly crept closer and closer. The sun overhead had begun to melt the bit of frost that had coated the land, causing the prairie to gleam brilliantly with ice and dew alike. A shiver crawled up her spine as she paused, briefly startled by the call of birds overhead. The silence of the morning has been somewhat enchanting but she knew the land was slowly beginning to rouse from sleep, and soon the solitude she basked in would likely be stolen from her.
There was little expression on her fragile features as she moved, her frame held low to the earth, the grass tickling her belly as she traveled in silence. The only sound was the gentle rustling of grass below and the shallow, steady breathing that escaped her throat in clouds of white air.
