The day was pristine - winter's chill relegated to the snow crunching underfoot while the sun warmed Sol's dark fur. She was downright toasty, and the iced-over crust of the snow coating the alpines made hunting smaller prey almost impossible. They'd hear it coming a mile away. Her morning had been devoted to a patrol while the sun was still waking, before Solulfur had checked on a few of the caches to ensure no scavengers were sniffing around them, and assess the pack's supply of food.
The winter was progressing smoothly. She had few worries to weigh at her, although a lack of pressing issues amongst her borders left plenty of room in Sol's mind to worry about outside her borders. Solvi's crimson attacker was still out there - the reykblindur, too. The Northfall tournament would be coming up soon, though when exactly she didn't know. Being unable to plan ahead frustrated her. She wished she knew if war or even lurking shadows of violence intended to creep up the mountain to encroach on her haven. She wished she could anticipate other threats, or diplomatic bonds that it was wise or inadvisable to form.
There was only so much she could do, as a single body, a single mind. Solulfur knew she was a powerful warmth and source of strength for her packmates - Dawnbreak's strength was the collective, and Solulfur a devoted caretaker of that in her own mysterious methods. She did not doubt her ability to do good work. She did not doubt her ability to push herself to her limits, and then a little further beyond. She was the Sun-wolf. She was a beacon of power, of strength, loyalty, wisdom - all the things she'd ever needed to be. All the things everyone had needed her to be.
But would it be enough? It was never enough. She was never enough, no matter how much she reached, how quickly she grew up, how strong she became.
He'd left anyway.
She'd been so young then, she knew now.
Solulfur blinked, taking a moment to check into her surroundings again. The Vale surrounded her, familiar pines and sprawling snow, far-off jutting cliffsides painted in rich, dark slate that curved around Dawnbreak's main territory protectively. The scent of warm sunlight and sweet honey reached her nose. Summer amongst the snow: Solvi's den was near.
Solulfur flicked her tail up, even with her spine, and trotted into view of the Mender's denning area. A soft chuff warned the sunbeam of her arrival, ears pricked with interest but a relaxed angle to their perch upon Sol's crown.


![[Image: viv_honeybee.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/viv_honeybee.gif)
![[Image: SolviSigVIV.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/SolviSigVIV.gif)





![[Image: bjarkipostbit.png]](http://magatia.net/x/bjarkipostbit.png)