She had come to the festival with the others of her pack, the old woman had been able to keep the pace with them despite her advanced age. Tan perched on her shoulder as she walked around, observing the festival goers and the Nomads that milled about trading wares and setting things up and the like. Amber gaze searched the crowd for any sign of her lost children, though they were all older now, they would always be her babies no matter their age. She was disappointed to find they were not here, but she supposed she expected as much. She hadn't seen them in so long, she doubted they were in Boreas at this point, and perhaps they had settled in a pack somewhere or made their own. She thought about where she was in life. Thought about her life in Winterfell. She could certainly say she was happy there, particularly because he had chosen to reside where she had been born and where she intended to die. The pines had been and always would be her home, and after a couple of years of being away from it when her son had Talis, she missed the North immensely. That was her main reason for following Acere and joining his pack. So that she could be home again. For her, life in Winterfell was relatively easy. She wasn't obligated to tend to all the duties as the others because her advanced age made it hard, but she still did what she could when she was able to. Mostly she babysat the pups, something she had no problem doing and she did enjoy it. She also got to spend alot of time with her boys, something she also missed. Tan ruffled her feathers and uttered a soft chirp, letting her know someone was nearby, but Avalon paid no mind unless she was approached. Her mind was too full of thought right now, and she found herself more distracted than usual. She thought about her time as a loner, thinking about how much she really didn't like it. She was a social creature, and the rogue life was often lonely. For nearly her entire life she lived in a pack whether it was her family's or her own, and not once did she ever miss being a loner. She missed Arian and her pack. She missed her father and the Ancora pack. Sometimes she even missed her own and Dragon's, but Winterfell was just as good and she noticed it even held similar ideals to some of the others. WC: 428 "Speech"

Niamh wasn’t sure if Jupiter would take her back to his pack or not. He smelt like many wolves, different wolves, and she thought that was what a pack scent was. Her idea of a pack was everyone working together to achieve some goal. Something that pulled them together and held them apart separately so they could be individuals. Legion was the pack of her master, but she knew nothing about it. A few times at the festival she smelt similar people – the boy, Alarr had been one of them. But she didn’t approach them. Not yet. She realized she had no choice whether she would join Legion or not; she belonged to Jupiter and until that changed, she’d remain at his side. Right now, she’d focus on ways to help him and be of use. But hardly anyone was available to communicate with. Not many wolves read and wrote. So, her options were limited. So far, she had been able to speak to Fracture, and she saw him again near the large group of wolves but hesitated to approach him. She had caused him grief last time. Niamh didn’t want him to be angry again being around her. He had been speaking to another lady anyway, and she tried to ignore the flash of jealousy. Instead, fate would provide her with another option. Another wolf that smelt of Fractures’ pack scent was a few paces away. The albino would approach the old woman, trying to smile non-threateningly at her. She could maybe ask what their pack was about. What ideas they held… or maybe even ask a bit about the dark man. In a subtle manner, of course. Pausing by the old woman, she’d nod her head and stop moving. Indicating she wanted to speak to her but waiting until she was noticed. [ooc;] 732/1500

Amber gaze would turn to find an albino figure stood nearby, and for a moment, Avalon thought it was her lost daughter Okami. Her excitement had died as soon as it had come, however, when she realized the she-wolf had the common eyes of red instead of her daughters deep blues. Though she was incredibly disappointed, she put on a smile instead. The woman smelled like some of the Legion wolves, though she didn't know who all was in the pack save for Valentine and most of his kin. She wondered how the other senior wolf was doing, and made a note to see if he was attending the festival as well. She opened herself up, inviting the woman to come closer if she so chose. It was a festival after all, this would be a grand opportunity to get to know all the new faces she had never seen before...especially now that she knew most of the old faces she once knew were gone or dead. She had outlived everyone she knew so far...and it pained her heart to know that. "Hello, nice festival, isn't it?" While she was aware of some of the tension her sons pack had in the past with Valhalls due to the raid, she figured it had been put behind them. Avalon hadn't raided herself, and although she had been angry with them once upon a time after she felt they had some involvement with Newol up and ditching her and his newborns, she had learned to let it go and shifted all the blame to him alone. That was years ago, however. Now she led a new life, in a new pack, getting closer and closer to the day where everything would just stop. For now, Winterfell would be her blanket until it became her casket. WC:302 "Talk" "You" Think

Niamh ducked her head shyly at the old woman’s friendly tone. Maybe everyone in Winterfell was nice? She had to keep believing that, because one day she would visit. One day… whenever that was. Maybe Jupiter would allow her to travel with him, and he would one day come to the northern pack… he didn’t seem to really mind that Fracture had hit him, so maybe there was no bad blood between them. She stupidly, naively, thought that anyway. ”y…yuh-yes” she forced herself to speak, for the woman’s eyes might be too bad to read her scribbling. Or the woman couldn’t even read. She had met some wolves already that couldn’t. the concept was alien to her. ”c-can… you tell me… of pack?” Niamh bit her lips after she spoke again, wishing so badly to blurt out her words but finding no courage to do so. She avoided staring at the elder for long, even if she was a female and she felt more relaxed around her own gender. The albino didn’t have a pack scent yet and this could be considered a loner asking after a pack for potential recruitment. Her head tilted sweetly though, as she stared at the elder with innocent eyes. ”want… um… want learn more. A-about… Winterfell.” maybe the woman would be nice enough to speak with her about it. so far, it had been good. Nobody yelled at her. Nobody was being mean. But once she started to speak, it typically went sour. [ooc;] 1283/1500

The young woman's response made her seem shy. Unsure. Though if her body language was anything to go by, she certainly was. She reminded her of Okami...the woman was likely of a delicate personality. Even going as far as avoiding her gaze more often than not. Smiling softly, Avalon sat down as the young woman asked her if she could tell her more about the pack she was in. Of course, she nodded and motioned for the woman to sit if she so desired. "Yes, of course. I don't mind at all." ”want… um… want learn more. A-about… Winterfell.” Her head tilted curiously, gaze bright as she looked at the albino girl. It seemed she had already met someone from the pack. Perhaps that's why she had such interest? She didn't smell like a pack at all, so the elder figured she was just a loner seeking to learn about the Northern pack that she called home.

"Winterfell, similar to its namesake, is a Northern pack. Currently the only northern pack. We're a mixed bunch like most packs, but with similar ideals of course. Acere, our alpha, is a wise and noble leader. He tries to be as fair as possible, while encouraging us to be the best we can be. But like any alpha should be, he doesn't let anyone take advantage of him. And I'd like to think none of us allow it." She could be wrong, of course. She couldn't speak for the other wolves in the pack but she knew that she didn't allow anyone to take advantage of her anymore. "I suppose I might say that if one were to live in Winterfell, it's vital that you're prepared for anything. The North is not an easy place to live, and survival instincts are a must. To help with life there, some of us specialize in crafting goods to trade, such as armor and weaponry, furs, jewelry, and whatever else someone might find useful."

Word count: 1,611/1,500