She moved often, seldom content in one place for too long; several dens had become known to her and various other nooks had become like home to her. Though winter had fast begun to approach, she had not even toyed with the idea of settling down into a pack once more. Simply put, few truly interested her beyond the wolves that dwelt within - the politics of it all bored her, or at least, the idea of living beneath them did. From time to time, she still lingered on the thought of gaining rank with Taviora, a position that would open several more doorways and yet, she had been hesitant to dedicate entirely to that cause too. It seemed wasteful to spend her youth trapped in the technicalities and expectations of a hierarchy. So she had stayed a free woman, wild and bushy tailed as she trapsed through the free lands, eyes peeled and ears keen to catch any whisper or whine. She had to find Militas; she wanted to find Roman; she wanted to seek out Daenerys too and perhaps even Spirane's newest leader. She had a long, tiresome list of those she sought and yet, she had never expected one of them to simply appear on the breeze.

Her nose twisted involuntarily in recognition. Her head whirled around instantly, her entire body stiff with stillness as the night swallowed her pale form. It had been years since she had experienced such a scent and yet, she had a memory impeccable with its detail; Kamala. It made her brow raise and she had no hesitation as she began towards the grotto. She moved with swift, silent strides, the silver light of the moon illuminating the wet stone beneath her. Though her sister had let no call out, Eloah made her presence known; as she approached the source of the scent, her muzzle parted momentarily to let out a deep, haunting call of greeting. It echoed across the stone like the wail of a ghost, ominous in its tone and yet infinitely curious in its intention. She had always wondered what had become of her sibling.

Eventually, she spied the outline of her sister above her; she paused, her head tilted upwards and to its left as she watched up at her sister now, more curious than ever. She had grown fair and dainty, Eloah saw, so very reminiscent of their mother even in the maw of the night. It made her lip twist up in an amused grin as she bathed in the silver moonlight, her tail ushering in a single wave of greeting before she sat patiently.

"And so," she mused aloud, her voice as gentle as the breeze, "the prodigal child returns, though no longer a child it seems." There seemed to be a hardness in her sister now, an unusual aura that made Eloah's own skin prickle with anticipation. She had waited for this night and yet, she had not foreseen her sister's return so soon.