He, too, had wondered if he—and the rest of Hearthwood—would pull through this winter. Their pack was small, but stable. Not growing (yet) but not shrinking either. They had persevered so far and Lachesis had no doubts that they would continue to do so. No amount of snow would stop them from emerging from winter a success. Food was scarce, yes, but with their few numbers they were able to manage off of less food and did not need to hunt as much as larger packs. For once their size worked to their advantage, although he hoped that once spring arrived that would change. He would like to see Hearthwood flourish once more and make Maksim proud. This was still his pack, and the Stark refused to let it fall.

His ears twitched in agreement at the healer’s words, his brows furrowed. “If you ever need anything you are welcome to visit again. I would more than happy to share herbs with you and the Notch,” he added with a slow, friendly wag of his tail. The one benefit of healers was that even if their packs did not get along, they did and they would work together despite their pack’s differences. He was not sure where the river wolves stood with White Fir, but if they needed something medical-wise Lachesis would never refuse to share some of his inventory. The thought of being the cause of someone’s death sent a shiver down his spine.

A smile finally broke his stoic features, eyes soft as they studied the blue-eyed male. “That sounds wonderful.” He had not seen the russet female since their unexpected meeting surrounded by pumpkins. They had left on good terms, for the river king had never felt any resentment toward to former river wolf, and he would like to see her again. Sometimes it took some shuffling around to figure out where one truly belonged. Lachesis had done the same and he could not be angry for the dark agouti for not returning north, to Hearthwood. Plus she had found Emrys, and he was pleased to discover a friendship (and a potential relationship) had blossomed between the two wolves.