It nagged at Natiya that she had not been able to do much in her role as Silverknife. For years she had been content to merely remain as told but now that her brother had ascended to his throne of power, she felt a sense of urgency that constnatly nagged at her. A need to do something, to prove something, that left her distinctly unsettled. He had been unhappy with the lack of information about the white king of the north and while she knew next to nothing about it, she resolved to visit the loner wolves and perhaps glean some information.

That had been her intention, anyways, but she finds herself pausing every so often while she sniffs around the crags. All morning she had traveled in a northwesterly direction until she was at the edge of the crags, the rocky ground giving way more and more to soft grasses that would brown with each passing day of summer. The air smelled heady and luxuriant with wildflowers blooming betwixt rocks. A bramble of blackberries caught her attention, nestled against a large boulder, and she worked her way to it carefully lest she cut her paws on the sharp ground.

The first bloom against her tongue had her sighing in appreciation, tail wagging slightly against her hocks while she devoured several more. She had forgotten to eat, she realizes, her belly clenching around the tasteful delicacies, for quite some time. A day? Two? It was no wonder she had been restless but unable to pinpoint, her mind too busy to put things together. After a few more she slows down, sitting in a soft patch of grass nearby to let them digest, angling her silver and gray head towards the sky with eyes half-lidded.

Purpose forgotten for the moment, distracted as she is by the warmth of the sun licking across her snout and a somewhat full belly, she begins to hum a melody, one she had sung to Zharko once to try and distract him in a fight. "Deep in the meadow, under the willow, a bed of grass, a soft green pillow.."