Ice.

That's all it's been for....

She's lost track, honestly.

Two of her daughters are sick, dying, and she can't do anything about it. Nothing she's trained for has ever prepared her for this, she had been prepared for the possibility of them dying at some point in their lives, from battle, from beasts.

But illness?

It was a slow death, worse still for ones so young, with so much to live for.

And this fucking cold didn't help matters any either.

Torn between wanting to be there for her children, the flailing pack that's in desperate need of bodies, and the general lack of prey, Fiadh's been at her wits end.

The regent was walking on the outskirts of the territory, head down against the blowing wind that sent a chill down even her bones, ears perked and listening for any signs of another creature caught out in this snowstorm.

Lunelle has been exploring a little more recently, with her usual soft steps, buoyant tail swaying rhythmically at her hind. This world still felt new to her, its edges maybe a little too bright, scents becoming sharper – though the strangeness no longer prevented her from her adventures. Instead, she welcomed it.

Winter still lingered, as it would – clinging to the land in that grasp it was so reluctant to release. Here, away from the peaks she’d crossed but a few days ago, the snow only dusted the ground in thin, patchy veils. It was firm and not nearly as treacherous. The air here was cool, crisp and hardly biting, and the flora? It peeked through the snow with that stubborn vibrancy, enough to remind her they still remained beneath.

This was enough to make her smile.

Her nose dipped towards a cluster of sage, its green leaves curled tightly against the earths cold. It was familiar, comforting, and she inhaled, letting the scent stir, reminding her of its benefits.

Good place to start, she mused, voice soft – careful not to disturb the quiet.

The land here was flat, open and easier to read – it was a perfect place for her to begin.

Fiadh