The joined waterways of the Fourthdale danced beneath the rising sun. The clouds were cast in lilac hues against a red flush, and oakwood eyes lift to watch the sun's ascent. The water lapped at its constraints, and a gentle breeze drew the lingering chill of the night to those awake.

A faraway look lingered in the young wolf's gaze. Had it really been two months since they had stumbled out of the oak grove and into Mythris? Juniper lowered their gaze to the water below, the leaves and vine tangled into their fur were dull, dried. Soon they would crumble. A wry smile found its place upon their lips.

The accessories Juniper adorned herself with were all that arrived to this new world with her. Would she too grow old and crumble in a world that was not her own?

Hardly a day passed without an underlying worry. Juniper thought of the dream that haunted her. A troubling development in addition to the plagued waters that Kirain warned her of. Juniper did not present her worries to others of the rise, instead she spent her spare moments monitoring the western edges of the territory for blight and tasting the rise's waters. They remained overall untainted, but how long would that peace remain?

With a heavy sigh, Juniper slumped their shoulders and shook their head. It was not the start of a productive day if one spent it worrying.