Invisible zephyrs blow gently over the wooded hills and valleys of Taviora bringing with it, the first warm hints of spring. Taviora was one of the last packlands to truly feel summer and spring, despite the flooding that still left lingering signs of damage, spring was upon them. Life breathed warmth into the frozen lands. Already, winter’s grasp was disappearing, leaving behind only pockets of wet snow and damp frozen earth.

Pale silver blue eyes scan the familiar land with intensity, her heart lurching. The flooding had forced her to abandon the den in the meadow of flowers that she had called her home for so long. Though it had not been the first hit by the rainstorms, the surging rivers had quickly grown their banks and it was not long before even the old log that had stood as guardian over her den for so long was washed away in the aftermath of destruction. There was a small part of her, a soft voice that wondered if she would not have done the fates a favor by allowing herself to drown in the recesses of her underground den. She could at least be forever surrounded by the memories that had been made there. She could have saved them all the trouble, allowing herself to be choked away and buried deep underground.

But he wouldn’t let her.

Perhaps it was the ghost of his mother, a wolf she had never met but found herself reveling in the stories he had shared with her in the past. This meadow had been her refuge, her sanctuary and in it, Talien found her own sense of peace with the choice that he made in taking Tuari as a mate instead of her. Perhaps it was still him that pulled her soul, begging not just for forgiveness, but to see that he loved her still, even if it was not in the same way that he clung to Tuari. He had been her first friend, her only true love. Dexter. The thought of him, the thought of her children, it brought her away from the den as the waters began to rush around her. Despite the resignation she felt, she could not abandon them. She would not give them up so easily. She watched with eyes filled with sorrow as the memories they had made here disappear beneath the churning muddy waters.

Weeks of watching from beneath the sheltering branches of a low hanging cedar found the waters receding enough that she dared to venture back into the saturated meadow. All around her, pockets of thick mud and broken debri litter the little haven that had once been so bright and green even late into the fall. No more did the old broken tree guard her den, not even the upturned roots remained. Only a mound of red brown dirt remained of what had once been the entrance into her sanctuary. Her paws sucked to the damp earth as she wandered back into the meadow, noting the beginning shoots of green that struggled through the thick mud. Life was trying to find a way. The knowledge at least made her smile. She would have to rebuild her den, but at least all that she had known was not lost. She had seen Eztli and Nenetl with the pack. They had long outgrown their need for her but that did not mean that she had forgotten them or the love she felt for them. Small raven tipped ears pitch forward with determination as she took a deep breath and let a heavy sigh slide from her lips. Like the changing leadership of Taviora, it was time for her to rebuild her own life.

Silver shoulders square as she drops her gaze to the loosely packed dirt where her den had once been. It would take time, and many hours, but she would do it. She must do it. Moonshade promised to rebuild their dwindling pack, she would rebuild. Forepaws tuck into the dark mud, staining her white coat a dull gray brown shade as she drew back one powerful thrust after another. ”One step at a time…” she murmurs to herself. One step at a time.