Large, snowy paws stepped almost silently through the brush, no mean feat with the amount of leaves that now covered the floor so heavily. Despite her rather large size and stature she had honed the skills to move almost undetected through the lands, one of the very reasons she had become Taviora’s True Arrow so easily. While she might have been able to direct her skills toward stealth or fighting, she lacked the drive for either. Her position allowed her a place in the home she loved, fulfilling the purpose she was made for, and yet keeping a distance from the pack she considered family. She had born her children here, loved them and followed Amoxtli with the same devotion as she had followed his father, but she was not made to be a social creature.

How Zaphkiel had come to love her she would never understand. He loved her despite her rough edges and sharp remarks. He had given her a family, and that had brought a completeness she didn’t know she wanted. On that same fated day, however, she had found another part of herself that she didn’t know was missing. It was an odd situation that she did not handle with the best of reactions, but hormones ran high that day and while she had seen glimpses of his brilliantly red splashed coat though the dress they had not spoken again. Zaphkiel and Coza had explained the situation, the nuance particular to Moladion where her soul had recognized its counterpart in another. She didn’t like being told what to do, even less so to be told by some fate who her soul belonged to.

For a time she railed against it, yet as her life quieted and seasons passed she found the feeling settled deep in her heart. The thought of him, near enough so that her soul did not yearn, settled something inside and the idea was not so foreign any longer. And so today when she happens across him while walking the familiar paths and game trails she paused, one wide paw hanging in the crisp, autumn air, she doesn’t turn away as she might have before. Instead she approaches him, bathed in the golden glow of the morning sun, and stands beside him silent as a statue. She cannot deny the peace that she feels at being so near him, surprised that he had not come to her sooner if he felt the same as she did in the moment. If, by chance, she had met Solaris first she could not say what her life might have become, but that is not even a thought on the edge of her mind.

The life she had is one she had forged for herself, fought tooth and nail for, and she cherished it more because of that. Now, however, perhaps with so much time passed they could flesh out what their relationship as imprints would be. Friends, perhaps, he if could put up with her and he would stay alive as long as Zaphkiel didn’t find out. She turned her thick head toward him, mismatched eyes of ice blue and gold waiting to see what he would do. He could leave if he chose, walk away and she would not blame him nor would she seek him out again. She had made her choice, the rest was up to him.