Traydon River

This river is famously known for its fish!

.::cloak:of:darkness::.
IP: 78.145.123.109

The grey and white teenager was full of sorrow as she padded along the riverbank, her paws sensing every dip and hollow in the sandy earth. The scent of the night was sharp in her nostrils, and she could feel the moonlight dancing on her pelt; normally, these things would fill her with joy, but not tonight. Not here, while the full moon shone ahead... Not while she walked upon her mothers final resting place.

Most people forgot, sooner or later; but not Tenebrae. The memory of Snowfall's death was always with her, the horror of her own helplessness, the fierce hatred kindling within her soul. Her mother wouldn't have wanted her to be this way, she knew, but how could she help it? The world was, in the teenage femme's limited experience, nothing more than a cycle of pain. It hurt, and then you died.

Her form was gaunt as she stalked onwards, her blind eyes not misty like most blind wolves, but black, pure black, and bright. Her paws were grey, and her tail tip and ears; she had an ash blaze across her muzzle. Apart from that she was white, white as snow, white as a ghost...

The femme pricked her ears as she picked up a scent... It was unfamiliar in itself, but there were traces of somebody else, somebody she had oh so much hatred for. She could guess, she was sure, who it was that lurked on the riverbank ahead, and a snarl grew across her muzzle as she approached, her own pawsteps loud as her heartbeat in her ears.



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