The Mourning Bells Are Ringing

Surreal felt a considerably great deal better than her last trip east. Her shoulder was no longer sore, and her limp was gone. She would need to continue being careful about how much strain she put on the shoulder, but she was at a point where she needed to work it in order to rebuild its strength and muscle. So she was out on this moonlit, stone strewn expanse, puzzling over the past occupants. Her mother had visited this place on her tour of the packs to gain alliances, or at least assure that the other packs would have no trouble with Valhalla, as long as they gave Valhalla no trouble. This land had once belonged to the pack known as Ebony. But as her nose drifted over the ground, the scents were stale, scent markers completely gone.

Had they merely moved on? Or had something akin to Valhallas fate transpired? Of course, were she merely to travel straight north, or northeast, she would have found the borders of the pack. She supposed she should travel north and check on her niece, Odette; see how Glaciem was now that its rightful claimant was on the throne. It did strike her as odd that she hadn’t seen Odette lately, now that her niece knew where she and her family were. Odette was a family loving wolf. But perhaps she had merely become busy running a pack.

Surreals forward movement slowed as her nose traipsed across a freshly laid scent trail. Mismatched gold and blue eyes lifted in the direction of the owner, catching a glimpse of dark fur before the shadowy form of a stone blocked him from sight. She waffled for a moment. There were pros and cons to approaching a stranger in an area she wasn’t completely familiar with. He could be a wolf like those of Arcanum; happy to attack, kidnap, enslave, or maim a wolf just for a jolly.

Finally, she came to a decision, circling around until she could pass by and continue on her walk. She wasn’t averse to company, but if this wolf was aggressive, fighting wasn’t an option quite yet.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think