The wounds still weep despite his best efforts; it seems they are deeper and more savage than initially believed. They still leave pink stains throughout my undercoat, draping my undersides when I rise in the morning. They ache faintly still and yet, I have begun to ignore them with each passing day. The fur across my crown has begun to grow back, albeit awkwardly at that. It stands at attention constantly, tufted and uneven; my muzzle remains scabbed too, the pale flesh tainted with black and crimson scabs. I do not pity myself though. There is something satisfying in the far off pain. There is something pleasurable in watching the flesh stitch itself back together with natural finesse. It is, after all, a privilege seldom given to those otherwise; often, we die from such things and certainly, those we hunt do so even more readily. To watch our bodies mend themselves in such a way? It tastes sweet against the tongue.
I have taken to the borders once more, a task I was unable to perform for some time. Summer has come now and so, the sand grows hot beneath my paws as I survey along the shore; I watch out over the water, its expanse finally placated as it laps lazily at the territory. I am glad I was able to dispatch of the threat to Glorall. It seems that Daenerys was unable to do so and this... confuses me, I suppose. I find myself thinking of it often. She was, after all, a suitable alpha; strong in both mind and body it seemed. It makes me curious as to what kind of wolf would be able to surpass a woman who has fought and victored several times in the past. Of course, such curiosity is little more than a surface level intrigue. So long as such a wolf stays out of the business of Glorall and does not incite discord without purpose, then I shall leave them to their own devices. Perhaps I will become lucky enough to house Daenerys and her kin; it would be a pleasure to explore her mind.
My thoughts are driven elsewhere as a call surfaces from the borders nearby. I pause momentarily to listen to it intently, my ears flickering towards its location with little effort. Despite the darkness, I know these borders intimately. My paws are natural in the blackness of night as I begin to move towards the sound; I move seamlessly into the tree line, weaving between the foliage and avoiding the crunch of fallen leaves and branches. I flex my toes and paws as I move, ensuring relative silence as I approach this stranger. It is, at least, not a call to challenge.
As I approach, I take in her scent entirely; a lone female, untainted by even the faintest scent of pack. It makes my ears swivel forward in curiosity as my eyes catch her form against the faint moonlight. I immediately notice her size. Even in the darkness, she is blatantly tall and broad. I pause several feet away to observe this woman. I release a gruff sound of greeting, though I remain in silence for several small moments as I simply bask in her aura. There is something unusual about it but I shall not question it directly. I will wait for now and then I shall begin picking apart this strangeness, I think.