Only a short time before their run-in she'd been alone, restless, sleepless. Tired. Many days the wolves of Magnolia Glen had been settled here, each with their own personal haunts within the borders; many days had passed where she'd failed to get to know any of them, and for a time she thought that wouldn't change. But today the sun rose just a little faster, just a little brighter, and she couldn't helpbut feel as though the night that had challenged her contentedness had given way to a day of change. As Ataneq called her by her newly assumed and personally tailored nickname, she knew she'd finally made a friend in her own pack. He went on to assert that their leaders had chosen this place well and made mention of the children who were well on their way, and she agreed.


After what she perceived as a flash of hesitation, the dark-furred boy revealed that he'd come across a certain tree further down the creek. She paused then, lifting a single fore paw from the ground as she glanced over her shoulder to him, her interest culminating in her body language. By now the morning light had chased away most of the night, leaving the world bright and painted in shades of green. The grasses here and along the edges of the creek were vibrant and plush, the leaves and buds on the tree branches a testament to spring, and dispersed along the crests and troughs of the rolling hills were blossoming wildflowers made brighter by her happiness. Her wild eyes swept over the scenery briefly before returning to her friend. "It sounds pretty neat," she said, referring to the tree. "—will you take me there? I'd love to see it." She looked upon the Tartok boy with a new perspective as the pale light illuminated his dashing features. Her friend. Her Atanaq.