Once more, as I made to exit my den, I was greeted by the presence of a freshly killed rabbit. Oh, it had varied; sometimes a fawn and other times a raccoon. But without fail my painted warrior brought me meals every other day. I was possibly the most well fed wolf in all of Moladion. Often enough I would not finish the meal, taking only what I needed and leaving the rest for my Leo. But I never saw him return and consume the remnants. They would simply disappear. My shadow only revealed himself to me when I asked it of him, or when he felt that something threatened me. It was a comfort to know he was always there, but part of me wished he would share my den with me rather than always sleep just outside. It was a discussion that was perhaps for another day.

Mid bite, I heard the call ring out across the mountain. I recognized the voice as Niviaq’s, but it was not her usual blithesome notes that rose. There was an air of frantic worry to her call, and I dropped what was left of the rabbit and lifted my crown skyward, howling a short reply – I was coming. Every day my wounds caused me less pain, and I had Niviaq to thank for that. I could hardly take my time in answering her pleading call. I loped across the landscape, drawing closer to her den with every stride. I knew the location well, as I often visited her to let her check over my wounds.

When she came into view, I checked my speed and slowed to a jog and then walk, hurriedly coming to greet her. Anxiety riddled her face, perhaps not in a state of panic, but more just some form of worry. “Niviaq, what is it? Are you ok?” My eyes searched her, wondering if she had been attacked by a lone wolf. Perhaps Purge or Skully had taken out their frustrations on a member of my pack. But I could see no wounds, and so my eyes returned to her face, my brows furrowed with concern.