Her boys had been foolish to think that Stella would seek out a healer for such an insignificant bite wound. The coyote had hardly even been any trouble at all and the festering punctures were now nearly closed up. Though it had been a surprise to her that a normally wary contender was so bold in attacking her for what remained of the fawn carcass. There was something… off about the way that the usually wily creature acted. But she soon shrugged it off once the holes had begun to cease their aching and were healing fine.

Winter was known so often for what it is capable of taking away and yet Stella feels that this year is different. She and Elijah had mated once more in hopes for a final litter before she finally eases back into a more quiet life – in terms of whelps anyway. Time has been wearing away at her and despite the fact that she has not yet lost her edge, she has begun to feel it slowing her down during the colder months. It affects her more so than winters before and the only cause she can blame is her age itself.

She walks at a leisurely pace now from the expanse of her home among the crags and into the vast fields of Ruieze. The grasses are barren of snow this day, the icy grip of winter not yet plastering the earth with white, and she takes a moment to enjoy the ease of her journey. Glacial eyes flicker about as the scenery shifts and her path soon approaches the lake that lies in the midst of the field.

Memories fly before her eyes as her mind is taken back in time, her gargantuan form halting just before the shore. Her long life has been filled with many things and she can honestly say that she regrets none of it. For every moment of strife and hatred, there was equal parts of pleasure. She is more of a creature to lurk within the shadows in these later days of her life; though she is far from being taken by death. She does not worry for the day that she will depart this world, for she was meant to transcend them all in the end.