Ice tried to bite at her flesh. Its frigid finger seeking to lace through her fur to kiss so sweetly against her bare skin. Fortunately so far only one had the privilege to give such a nip, and Eleanor was residing, hopefully safely, within Iromar. Despoina, on the other hand had not been able to keep her temper enough to stay within the pack. Or, her moralities had twisted through and she could not abide by the change of power. Either way, her dark paws now carried her through the storms that plagued Spirane as she searched for the cure to the infection that gripped Iromar.

Thick dark coat protected her from the cold, keeping her warm to the point she almost forgot others would suffer from it. She was in such a mood she did not even know she cared about others if she stopped long enough to think about it. Despoina was too focused on her rage at hand. Something worse than a monster had sunk its teeth into her home and tore her family apart. He had ripped the pack apart; drawn blood of the members loyal to the moors. He had threatened them all. He had hurt her son. He had put them in danger and forced them apart.

Aranck had to die.

Despoina was all too willing to facilitate it.

Paws scraped against the ice that had begun to cover the mountains. She kne the trails, this had been her home once, but now they were different. A strange smiled flickered over the woman’s lips. She had truly changed from the pup she had been when she left. Her fire still burned, but it was the embers that were hot. Years ago, Daenerys had said she was welcome to the pack to visit, speaking of the alliance between Iromar and Spirane. Now Despoina’s lip curled sickeningly. There would be no alliance now, if she had anything to say about it. Figuring she should have manners, the brutish brawler stopped on the lower trails, far from the heart of the land, a respectful distance from what most would consider their home. She called to the mountain born, or any born of the mountain to come to her. She had news to share.