These days I did not move quite as swiftly as I once had. Still, my stride embodied the years of leadership I had endured. From time to time a slight hitch would appear in my step, due to the injuries I had sustained in reclaiming, defending, losing, and once more reclaiming the mountain throne. Not to mention the life-threatening injuries I had sustained in my last true pack hunt. But on a warm afternoon like this one, I moved as fluidly as one of my age could be expected to. My head was erect, ears mostly pressed forward except for the occasional tilt to and fro to catch the sounds of my home around me. Age might be catching up with me, but I was not so old that my senses were failing me. In fact, that seemed as sharp today as they had during my years of ruling.
And those sharp ears were quick to catch a familiar voice on the wind. So familiar it stopped me in my tracks. I had lost count of the years that had slipped by since I had heard that voice. But no matter the years that had gone by, I had still let my heart hope that someday I might hear it again. Joy flooded through me, gripping tight upon my heart. I did not move to action right away. Perhaps age was getting the better of me, and my ears were playing tricks on me? But no, the note carried and there was no mistaking it. A mother never forgets.
It took every ounce of the wisdom my age had brought me not to gallop across the pack lands to reach her as quickly as possible. Instead, I set an easy lope, slowing to a trot through areas where the surface was less trustworthy. I knew these lands better than anyone else. Someday my children, and grandchildren, would be able to claim that knowledge to be greater than mine, but not just yet. I threaded down through a shortcut to the periphery of the territory, then took up a lope once more, angling towards where her voice had come from. Despite my age, I doubted that Nymeria would beat me here. She was a new mother, after all, with two bundles of fur occupying much and more of her time.
The chocolate and onyx form that came into view, loping up the same trail that I loped down, nearly made my heart explode. I did not pause, did not falter. Age and the years that had separated us had changed her, but she was still my daughter. A face that reflected so many of my features, a body that I noticed bore a few new scars but still retained the unmistakable regal stance of the females in our family. There was no mistaking her.