Their presence was no longer. She did not feel safe in the fields without shadow and leader. It was not right. Nothing was quite... as it was anymore. Shadow and leader were no more. Their presence had faded into that of the nothingness of death, and that nothingness meant that she left a place now unsafe, driven back to the woodlands where one can properly survive without as much issue.

Her young were no longer small, and they no longer needed her. She went alone this time, with fading fire in her eyes as her form strides into the woodlands, heading back towards where she once slept every night. Things change over the years. Trees grow and die. The woodlands morph like a living, growing creature of its own. Her nose only gives her so much information these days. She did visit every now and then in her wanderings from the land of grass, but her mind was not as sharp as to where her old den used to be.

She weaves through trees with her haunting image of white, grays, blacks and red. She may be an older, experienced wolf, but she still has the build of feminine grace. Her muscles are still tight, but she feels the bit of difference in her joint as the moons go on. She does not dwell on such things though. She simply accepts it as it is and moved on.

The air was sweet with the smell of spring. It was mid-morning. The trees made much shade as she stepped along, the sun shining through patches here and there. She followed an innate sense, as some trees do not change so much over time, and some rocks never seem to move. Eventually, she found her old den. It was covered in grass and leaves. Dirt had filled in a bit of the entrance. She trotted to it, looking over it carefully. She lifted her head, eyes looking around...deciding to ensure the area is secure before digging. She turned, and began to circle the area for any who may be watching.