thirteen - no heart - Heyel's soul - Spirane
sister of warlow, dam of none
this is her in blackouts

There is a peace that comes with winter, when all is dead or slumbering. In those few monthes of intense cold and bitter struggle one can find the silence reassuring; it makes way for the most private of thoughts to be brought out from hiding places. In this time one can open that locked cabinet of memories and take out that bitter or beloved thing and cherish it. Regret it. Whatever it is that condemns or revives the soul is kept there. In these quiet moments Natu clears her mind of all thoughts and focuses on the wait the cold air nips at her nose and an unforgiving breeze attempts to peel through the layer of thick alabaster fur at her warm skin. She is hunkered down in the deep layer of snow so that only the slope of her back and shoulder can be seen in the snow, but only if one was to peer too closely. She matches this oblivion of white and sinks into it like a chameleon changes colors. Only a few months out of the year can she have such an effect. In these months she can grow to be stronger than ever before or weaker than she ever was.

She has put away the mantle that she has carried since the passing of her mate and children those many, many years ago. In the wake of her assault by the bitch Queen of Iromar, she had learned there were greater things then her own sadness. Her will to live, to survive, to conquer being one of them. Natu was not a great beast in size or capacity. Nay, she stood only at 29 inches and weighed a whopping 112 pounds, but those pounds were spread out into powerful muscles along her boyd. She is not the dainty creature that some wish to be, nor is she thick. There is power within her but also speed and the great wisdom of having survived almost fourteen years on this planet without suffering from starvation, for her hunting skills were strong and her survival skills even stronger.

The prospect of carving out her own territory has begun to settle into her bones. Would Sven come with her if she should accomplish such a goal? As of late she has felt unsettled in Spirane. It has been her home here for the last two years. A beautiful, echoing home, and she is glad to see it flourishing, but she cannot help the need that burns within her. She was never meant for a life of meekness; meek might be a word too strong for the life of unbridled problems that she seems to ever be embroiled in. The theft of Sven as a pup, her blackouts, her attack from Lillith, and her imprint. He was a most disagreeable fellow to her senses but her body still yearned for his closeness. Strange for the mind and soul to be so torn.

With her nose almost buried in snow all that is left is her icy, pale blue eyes that gaze out in a disjointed wonder; the pupils constrict and contract as a fiery figure appears a ways off. Natu stills the breathing of her body once more, waiting for the wind to snatch unceremoniously at the other femmes scent and send it to her. She is much larger than Natu, a creature born of ember and flame - beautiful.

As the girl proceeds onward to a large tree Natu suddenly stands. If Mikoto has missed her camouflaged figure as she thinks then it might be a start to the young girl to suddenly see the brilliant white figure of Natu appear, but she does not wish to alarm her. Instead she moves towards the girl with a sedate walk, the tips of her paws skimming over the untouched snow before pressing down into it and driving her forward. The river is muted in the silence of winter but it is almost pressing against her ears as she meanders closer, pausing a good distance away from Mikoto. "It is a hard time to be traveling. You must be weary, wanderer. Do you seek shelter of a pack?" Her ears prick forward as she waits, her voice gentle and yet stern, and her eyes holding the wariness of one who is a stranger, but not the aggression of a foe.