The task given was a simple one that held many different faces. She was to visit each of their allies and seek a wolf of that pack to learn any information she could from, whether it be good news or bad. Her first decision had been which pack, and as she had not once been to or even thought much about visiting she had settled on the mountain pack of Spirane. Their leader was a young Mother whose parents had been the previous leaders of the mountain, descending down from past generation of wolves on the mountain. The angels knew much about most of the wolves in Diveen, the Spirane was no exception as they were long standing allies. Even back in the time of Old Moladion, when the packs had different names and weren't what they were today. If they were better or worse, that was left to individual opinions of course, for to each their own.

It is not too terribly far from the plateaus to the mountains, only having to round the lake in Ruieze Fields and cross the stream that feeds the same lake that flows down from the Valley. When Ambrosia reaches the border of Spirane, though she still remains in the low lands, she stops out of common courtesy and manners. Where she stops she then moves to lift her slender and petite muzzle to the sky, calling out for any nearby pack wolf that might wish to come greet her, any wolf of any particular ranking would suffice. And then she waits, bright exotic eyes of violet flecked with orange and emerald glancing all around her surroundings. The trees here in the lowlands speak of the Autumn all around, but the slope if the mountain thins them until it is sheer rockface all the way up. And as violet eyes travel to the peak and the immensity in which she has never witnessed before, she can see snowy caps atop the peaks and wonders in fascination at this.

Ambrosia's experience with mountains is limited to none, and as it is her first visit to Spirane she is rather enthralled with the grandeur of it all. She cannot not help and does not particularly mind the smile plastered upon her beautiful features, or the joyus wonderment strewn all across her demeanor in her observations. She would be sheepish no doubt if one were to walk upon her in such a state, but it was an inevitable thing, and so she just waited in her natural fasincation for whomever may come and whatever may come her way.