The caribou shelter within the Briar's Veil, so the Saastine do the same. They are better for it to be here than the Winter Scar. The tall trees sheltered them from the cruel winter that raged across the northern lands. In the absence of the lake's water, lapping at the confines of its basin, Caan's solace was spent in the company of creaking boughs and birdsong.

It is hard to believe that he almost died in this place. The clouds hung low and poisoned, pressing the life out of those that sheltered among the trees. Unnatural, purple snow piled high... None of that remained. Life moved through the wood again. Perhaps less than what it once was, but the Veil had seemingly healed. Turning the haunting dreams of his suffering into nothing more but cruel recollections.

So he lives with his clan mates. A haunted whisper of the past twisting around in the back of his skull.

As much as he missed the shores of the lake, the quiet, semi-secluded life he had continued here. Yes, it was broken up more frequently now that he was tasked with Aiman, but he was also visited less frequently. Cen scarcely had time to spare his son outside of the hunt, and Fa'liya was often ill. That left only two wolves that checked up on him.

The moon girl had slipped off, Aivar on her tail. Her absence stung greater than it should. His father's captive was the closest thing Caan ever had to a friend.

So in truth, there was only one wolf that remained, and she too had only recently returned following an absence. Her voice floats through the trees. Soft and steady. It does not take him long to find her once he followed it.