Winter would be upon them soon, that she knew. She wondered, often in fact, who might fall to the cold. Halcyon, she feared, who had been tucked away in the dens and beneath the watch of their healers. She considered the possibility intensely, unsure as to what paths Asteraia might take if such an event happened. She had been born on the plains and had lived beneath the Monster, accepted the woman's decision to hand their lives to Halcyon and Aster and now, she wondered if they might experience it again. It was unappetizing, the prospect. No, she did not like it. Though not a healer, she felt it in her bones that she ought to seek out their alpha.

The sun had begun to set, the sky painted in shades of blood and violet. She had become accustomed to the oncoming cold fast, many of her nights spent in the darkness and starlight; she moved with practiced ease, nose low to the grass as she weaved across the plains towards where Aster's scent grew stronger. Halcyon's scent had become weaker throughout the territory but Beltane knew their queen would lead her there - besides, she felt something familiar the closer she got. The sensation reminded her of her half-sister, the other woman who had been searching for their father all those seasons ago. She did not know how to feel about it, only that she did.

But she had a sudden urge to move faster and so, she obliged herself, seldom one to turn away from her instincts. Even as she arrived at where she knew their den would be, she did not slow her pace, aware of Aster's missing presence. Her surprise was palpable when she found Halcyon outside the den, his body thin and messy against the shadow of the night. She thought for a moment that he did not seem to glisten beneath the starlight and moon as a wolf ought to and her heart fluttered against her chest as a low whine crept from her lips.

She did not stop to think, stop to consider. Instead, she lowered herself submissively and crept forward until she was able to press the warm of her fur against his frail body. Even in his prime, Beltane outsized him by some ten or so inches and some sixty pounds but now, it was as if she had cloistered herself around a youngster. She used it to her advantage, ensuring he was anything but cold as she stared ahead into the night beyond; in that moment, she knew why she had felt such urgency. Had he been left alone much longer, who could say how quickly his health would decline.