She dreamed of saltwater and kelp. Brine, burning her nose and throat, the pull of cold waves that fought to drag her into their flow. Shimmering herring, coalescing into great schools and then scattering silver shards through the green-blue. Then: clouds of silt and ash. The water, once clear, clogged by noxious green and brown. The kelp withered. The sea warmed.

When she opened her eyes, it was to the inquisitive stare of a gull. On instinct, she snapped her jaws. Her teeth missed. A great cacophony of shrieks rose around her as white wings fluttered out of reach, and the sodden she-wolf dragged herself to her feet. She coughed, tasting salt on her tongue, but her lungs were clear. Her limbs felt as strong and healthy as ever.

This shore looked much like the one where she had traced her sister's scent, only far colder. White snow crested the tops of the cliffs. Steam rose from her mouth with each panting breath. What had happened? Where had the sea taken her?

Her sister's scent was not here. Yet there were other familiar ones: wolves she'd known in another life. A thread of connection. She held onto it, and forced her damp, shivering form to step away from the lapping waves towards the rocky cliffs. Slowly at first, then with greater confidence, she ascended a narrow trail. Occasionally a paw slipped on the damp stone, but it did not diminish the stormy determination in her hazel eyes.