Icey blue eyes in a field of inky darkness fixed me with a menacing gaze. Accentuated by lines of crimson, they stared me down with an intensity that felt as real as it had all those years ago, the first and last time I had seen her face to face. I started from my dream, a midday snooze dropping me into an old memory unbidden. My head shot up and I glanced around, mildly confused. But the realization of reality settled over me quickly, and I shook my head and neck to rid myself of the odd feeling the dream had brought up. I snorted, hard, out through my nostrils before glancing down at my shoulder and recognizing the scar that lay beneath my sterling silver fur. Reaching down, I absently groomed the spot, the fur typically covered it fairly well, but I bore my scars with pride – just like my mother. How strange, I thought, for my subconscious to dredge up such old memories of the shewolf who since our encounter I’d only heard rumors about. Rumors that she ruled in the north, rumors that she was the type to observe dark ways of a dark past.
I wasn’t left long to think about her however, for a howl went up from the borders. A call to myself or Kalseru, or another high ranking official within the pack. As a few raindrops found their way down from the thin clouds above, I stretched and rose to my paws before tilting my crown back and loosing an answering call. I would be there shortly to meet whomever it was who stood upon our borders. Then I set off, following familiar paths both well-worn and shortcuts that only those most familiar with the mountain (and adventurous enough to look for them) would know about.
As I travelled, the rain persisted, but not so heavily that it soaked my coat. It was a light rain, teasing the ground with the promise of moisture. When I reached the borders, drops of water seemed almost to sparkle across my back, clinging to the tips of my fur. I didn’t take time to stop and shake the moisture from me, curious about what visitor called upon me or my sister. Before long I reached him, his charcoal and black form at once blending with the shadows and standing out in some way. Nostrils flared as I approached, keen to catch his scent and perhaps some clue of where he hailed from. My posture naturally fell into a regal stance, tail lifted casually in line with my back and ears pressed forward. His stature did not speak of any threat, and thus I felt no need to assert my dominance. It was evident enough in the strength of my scent upon the borders.
His own scent hinted at the possibility of Glorall being his home, the sea salt smell always a good clue to that. I nodded a greeting to him as I came to a stop before him.