Although it pained her to be away from Fate's Respite, there was no denying how dangerous it was. The water there, less polluted though it seemed since the fog's onset still beckoned with its eerie allure, pulling even the strongest wolves toward its vile streams and lakes. Each sip was a taste of death, leaving throats scorched and tongues covered in acidic burns - it would have been foolish to stay.

Even still, her heart hurt.

It was this longing that kept Valeska awake past her usual hours. She stared out into the night from the relative comfort of a hastily made dugout, missing the company of her mate Amaranth who was no doubt prowling the highlands in her usual restless state.

Suddenly, movement caught her eye.

Что за херня, (What the fuck) she said without thinking, rising to her paws so quickly she banged her head off the roof of the den. Oof-!

This did not delay her in the slightest. Valeska scrambled out in a hurry, paws flailing and eyes wide as saucers as she beheld the clouds take shape and descend to earth in ghostly imitation of the living; the smoothness of their glide across the fields was unsettling, but the High Priestess thought it beautiful.

Священная Мать Волчица, (Sacred Wolf Mother) she whispered, realizing she'd been holding her breath.

A vision from the gods -

- But what was its meaning?

A soft hello? sounded from nearby, a gentle query from a young wolf. Her gaze roved the landscape and she spied the small figure lingering near the silver phantoms; Valeska hurried closer, drawing near to the stranger's side.

The Five do not often speak to us - not in the formal sense - she said unprompted. But they also have not... done... this.

Valeska was perfectly content to take a seat next to the unknown wolf without an invitation, staring out at the dancing figures with rapt attention.

The wind dances like Nivia in the heart of winter, but it is Aether's season. I do not understand...