She might have grown but she had not lost her attachment to her family despite her disappearance alongside her mother's own; her absence, if anything, had created a yearning that she had only understood entirely when her paws had felt the familiar soil of Asteraia between them once more. The scent of snow combined with the rich grass below stirred her, creating a ripple of eagerness across her flesh as she paced along the northern reaches of the territory.
As she moved along the icey snow, she watched the lands beyond, thinking of her siblings as she did so; she thought of Alouette and how her timidness had been something Beltane had never understood and she thought of Thoth and how his silence and reliance upon his teeth had been as foreign as a sunset in the east to her. She understood neither and, though it felt unusual to admit it, she understood her parents even less. It did not mean a lack of love but she knew it simple as that: she did not understnad. Psyche was but a blurry memory, her voice spoken through water and her face reflected from an imperfect mirror; Samhain was a man with his own agenda, his own world that Beltane had not been able to live in despite her desires. She had tried both - to follow Psyche and to waste away in Asteraia - but she had never chosen one. Now though, perhaps she ought to.
It was a sudden gust that brought her attention back to the path in front of her; her eyes lifted to the sky, the dark clouds of an imminent storm causing her pause for a moment. Then, with a tch of frustrated decisiveness, she made her choice. With a flick of her dead right ear and her tail, she pivoted and began her reintroduction into the wilds of Asteraia.