The cold bother had mentioned once before had settled across the land, this was all rather new to her and yet she came from think pelted wolves which drew her some added warmth among the soft winter down that grew thick enough causing her to look as though she perhaps was slightly larger than she actually weighed. It was enough to keep most of the bitter bitting away though perhaps a deeper part of her became alive in these conditions. A snarl racked her young frame as she sprang for a hare unsuspecting of her arrival with snapping jaws. The multi-hued girl had missed it just my an inch at best. Admittedly Menkhet was still honing her skills on fast, fleeing prey. Adapting her art of stealth, there was so much left to learn as she lifted her head tilting it to the soft whispers that coaxed her paws now.
Menkhet was well aware of the fact she was leaving the packs borders and out into the free lands. Snowdrifts were deep in some places and would drain her stamina should she have to fight through their depths. Menkhet was all too aware that she would have to make her way home and needed the energy to do so, but the whispers coaxed her further away from the warmth of a den and a meal to feed her belly. Thinking almost consciously, the youth made her way across the tundra. Mother had occasional spoke of the barren landscape and the fact their own kind did not seem to frequent there as much. The softer more appealing places beckoned most kinds of wolves. For these moments, at least, mother seemed entirely correct. The past scents had grown cold and stale confirming her solitude. It was beneficial she was learning how to track their own kind. Not only as a source of food but a means of navigation and means to keep herself hidden. Although mother taught them to fear nothing, mother had also taught them to be wise for they were smaller than though who may desire them harm what they are and who they are.
Sekhmet's teachings roamed through her mind as the whispers grew to voices. They called out to her and she grew lost in them. Cold. It was bitter and biting into her flesh much harsher than any of her siblings had dared. Those opalescent eyes glimmered in realization and in an abrupt stillness. These trees were not of the home nor of the tundra. A sweet scent of the evergreens coaxed her underneath a tree, her paws pressed against its trunk her claws raking down it almost with a cry of delight; the wind had another idea the gust of wind and snow shifted and blew shaking the branches of the tree. Her ears fell back and lip curled slightly as she shook the snow from her back and navigated out out the fresh powder.
Her nose was too the cold and frigid air, snow practically blinding but she could smell her kind. If she kept going she could probably find food or at the very least a place to scope out while she recovered the energy before journeying back home. The dark pelted one mentioned this place.