---

At last.

There he was.

Alone.

Vulnerable.

With the most benign smile and a gently-wagging tail, Valeska headed down the slope to catch her wayward son at the edge of the lake and who was presently enjoying a nice, solitary drink. Although the funeral had plunged much of the pack into a somber mood for the majority of the afternoon, enough time had finally passed where everyone was just now starting to perk up and mingle with each other again.

The only one left who she had yet to mingle with was Alder.

Мой сын! (My son!) she shouted from behind, causing him to jump. How long it has been! Oh, it is good to see you!

Hurrying over, the little wolf stood on her hind paws and tried her best to embrace him, but she was stunned to find how much he'd grown. Her forelimbs barely wrapped around his neck now, so thick with muscle and fur he had become; but then again, when he'd left the boy had still been an adolescent. A year was a long time for a wolf.

How have you fared? Has Northfall treated you well?

Perhaps not the most appropriate question given Ragnar's disappearance.

She tried a more cheerful topic.

How long have you been with the little golden woman?

Valeska's face stretched into a broader smile, somehow frighteningly uncanny and almost macabre in its appearance. She leaned in close.

Go on. Tell me all about her.