The Furian daughter had been too much of a recluse for the most part of her three years. Her only desires had consisted of remaining with family and no one else; aside from Exodus, that is. Though now she was feeling a strange aching in her soul to wander from the comforts of her abode within the crags and to seek out others for seemingly no reason. I was good to socialize and although she was much like her mother, she did not wish to be so… withdrawn from everyone.

Her morning started with a wide, pearly toothed yawn in the midst of the first golden rays. She rises from her confines within a small cave that the boulders of the crags had created. Her body is tired and stiff from her dormant state, and so she stretches her neck out and upward, her legs spreading long and tail lifting to the heavens. Her body releases this stretch and she shakes herself to be rid of the remaining sleepiness. Tri-colored eyes peer from the shadows of her cove as she surveys the realm that lays just over the edge. No other wolves are out and about at this hour yet.

With a burning determination set in her mind, she moves fluidly from her den and descends the perilous face of the mount that she has called her home. Large paws find their place with practiced ease among the uneven surface of the rocks and soon she is leaping from the base of the mountain and onto the grassy soil with a thud. Nares flare as she freezes and inhales any scents that may have been missed from atop her stony cathedra. With a satisfied snort that all is clear, she moves away from her dwelling place at a jog, her direction now pointed to nowhere specific.

It is by midday that she smells the delightful aroma of fresh, running water and with a parched mouth begging for relief, she picks up into an easy lope toward it. She reaches the river and slides down the dirt banks with eagerness, her massive paws splashing into the shallows as she comes to a halt. Her head dips down to lap up the cold liquid and her body rejoices for receiving such a gift. Despite the season changing to autumn, it is still hot on some days and today the breeze has yet to pick up and cool her heated skin.

When she has had her fill of the refreshment, she lifts her brindled skull upward and her ears immediately flicker at the sound of another. Blue marbled eyes turn to rest upon the smaller figure of a pale female covered in muck. It is a curious thing as to why she looks so disheveled and some part of Bellatrix wants to ask what may have happened. But she is uneasy in this new situation – not because she is fearful of this stranger but because she is unsure as to how she should approach. Her last encounter with a stranger ended in bloodshed and her violent tendencies were still lying in wait. But this female’s appearance did not provoke such emotions to rise from their dormant state and with another moment passed, she calls out to her.

”Are you… alright?” her voice is deceptively smooth, yet strong, and feminine despite her stocky appearance.