Pan had told me about the wolf who had come calling at the borders, laden with questions about the inner workings of Spirane. I trusted whatever information my Hand had chosen to share with the foreigner were within the bounds of acceptable knowledge for those not of the pack to obtain. Pan had earned his role as my chief advisor because he was intelligent, incisive, and intuitive (to a point). Of course I had inquired as to this wolf’s appearance, so that if he returned once more I might know him on sight, seeing as he had given no name. The description Pan had provided me with seemed familiar; a wolf of black, with grey tipped ears and tail. Strikingly similar to the wolf I had encountered some weeks before in the valley. He had captured my interest then, and now that I knew he had wished to delve deeper into knowledge of the mountain’s inner workings, he interested me even more.

So when a call lifted from the borders that I had heard only once before, requesting the presence of myself and perhaps Pan as well, I knew who it was. My dial tilted back towards the sky and I answered his call with mine of acknowledgement. When it was complete I paced away from the spot where I had laid, watching my offspring tussle in the snow. It was a strange feeling that I no longer needed to worry about leaving my pups alone, even if I worried about them getting into some new form of trouble during their first winter. Wistfully I cast a glance over my shoulder as I watched the four of them tumble about in the snow, wrestling for the dominance that either Drogon or Rhaegal typically prevailed with. But then I was off, loping through the powder down the mountain. During the winter months different trails had to be used, for some became blocked with snow far too deep to traverse. Others held danger of snow slides. Having grown up here, I knew the mountain better than anyone else, no matter the season.

Eventually the steady decline tapered off into the foothills, and my pace increased. It was not necessarily in haste to reach this wolf who still remained nameless to me, but rather that my pace warmed my muscles and got my heart pumping. Running like this was so freeing. However, as I drew closer to the border, and more into plain sight as trees grew sparser in the region, I slowed once more to a lope. It only took one sweeping glance along the periphery for me to spot the wolf of pitch, for his stood out plainly against the white of the snow that had left a fresh dusting early that morning on every tree branch in sight.

As I approached him I slowed to a jog, before finally halting a few feet off of the borders, a comfortable distance for two wolves who were but acquaintances. “So we meet again,” I said with a grin and a flick of my tail. My banner was lifted higher than it had been when first we had met, and even though I did not see this wolf as a threat, these lands were my home and it was my birthright and duty to look after them and those within. I wondered what had brought him back here once more, and hoped he might make it readily known to me before I even had the chance to ask.