Wandering left her weary, but it was all she could do these days. She yearned for the members of her family, for although she?d met some of them recently, the matriarch had yet to see the face of each and every member. She missed, above all else, her parents and brother. The ache their absence left in her heart was fierce; she felt like an abandoned child, left to carve out their name in unforgiving lands with no back up. And then she felt guilty for such feelings, guilty that she was thinking such things about her loved ones.

She found solace in gathering herbs, although not much. Her mother had been a talented oracle, well-versed in the herbs and traditions of their family, well-connected with the gods, and yet Virgil only knew a fraction of such things. She knew what plants could stop pain, and that was about it. Today she found herself gathering random plants, supposing they might prove helpful to somebody who knew their use, if they had any use at all. They seemed different from the plants of her old homes, which was to be expected.

This was, after all, a different climate. There were different creatures here, different smells, and so it figured that the flora would be equally strange. Nonetheless, she was hopeful that she?d be able to learn something of the native plants. Herbs, after all, could be useful. Applied to one?s paws, a poisonous plant could prove lethal in battle. Applied to wounds, they could keep loved ones alive that would otherwise be goners. So focused was she upon her task that she paid little mind to her surroundings, her swiveling, golden ears the only sensory organs that bothered to gather information about her surroundings.

Aranya was, as she was prone to do, wandering. Rather aimlessly, in fact. Skeletal trees, mere husks, surrounded her like the ribs of the earth sticking into the sky. The snow was thinner here, and spring growth had begun to poke through, including many beautiful flower buds that had not yet sprung open. They had the faintest ghosts of smells, and the young wolf was intrigued by each and every one. So she frolicked, bouncing amongst the dense snow, flinging clouds of it into the air with what many would call reckless abandon. She stopped abruptly, realizing she was not as alone as she thought. There, stooped in the woods ahead of her, was a golden-hued wolf. Aranya stood up straight and tall, ears perked and tail out. Who was this? She raised her nose to the faint breeze and drunk in all it had to offer. The stranger was female, but beyond that she could make out little else. Not wanting to be perceived as a threat but eager to make a friend, she wagged a bit and called out, "Pardons, m'lady! Hello!" She took a few more cautious steps forward, eager for a response. For all that she was tensed to run, she hoped this wolf would turn out to be friend instead of foe. Speech,Thoughts,