Prodigal
The sky was painted a sickly grey, choked with clouds that made the atmosphere thick and cold. The sun was no where to be found but Azalea trusted her gut to figure that it was sometime in the later half of the evening. What little light there was should soon be lost all together.
A flurry had begun, fat white flakes swirling around the miss as she trekked across a land over-encumbered with snowfall as it was. Upon her back a dusting formed, and it contrasted it against her normally pale body. There was an upset in walk, an unnatural hiccup in her gait. Azalea looked rough, battered and slow moving as she traveled back to the land from whence she came. It had been an entire season nearly that she had been gone and it was with good reason.
Always the explorer, Azalea had gotten a little in over her head and had ended up taking a fall that broke her leg. She didn't know what to expect to find, probably not her pack. Her children were probably scattered around Alacritia and she could only be grateful that Sarak had been retrieved and on the mend before her little excursion took her beyond the northlands she called home.
Sparse Pines came up slowly. Azalea could recognize that landscape anywhere. The snow had stopped for now but seemed to be playing some game of "flash on, flash off." She prepared to edge around Sparse Pines but found herself stopped in her tracks as the wind shifted to reveal the scent of Regium. It was a throwback, a welcome one, that had her mouth gaping wide and her amber eyes locked upon the pine trees.
Regium? Here?
She proceeded with caution, moving to the border where she stopped to gaze around through slit eyes. Her neck extended, head hanging just over shoulder height as the she-wolf called out for friend or foe. She wondered who would answer. |