The morning had just begun, the sun attempting its slow ascent behind large and lumbering clouds. The day was gloomy and only contrasted by the white snow that littered the ground around the trees and bushes. Moraxia was up the instant the birds had commenced their noisy sunup routine. The young wolf was careful to not wake her fellow sleeping pack mates and delicately stepped around the rising, falling and snoring bodies nearby her resting place. Down the mountain-like hill she went, traversing the land slowly and carefully on her way. What a beautiful morning it was; the snow muffled all noise and there was no wind to be spoken of as the large flakes fell softly into the fresh blanket tucked into the territory.

Her role in the pack was becoming more and more apparent as time went on: keep a watchful eye and do anything she could to keep everyone safe within the territory. Each day after waking she’d immediately set off to patrol the far corners and everywhere in between in order to practice her tracking and perception skills. The amount of travel each day had also added a slight bit more muscle to her legs, allowing her to walk for longer and cover more ground quicker. Today, however, she let her muscles rest as she casually descended down toward a clearing not far from the den itself.

At a time prior to this moment, Moraxia had agreed to meet Gent close to the den so he may accompany her on her jaunt about the Crest. Taking a seat and leaning her shoulders against a tree nearby, the woman relaxed her muscles and thought of her leader—a large grin plastered to her face. The black beast had been kind to her when they met; quiet and intimidating, but never faltering in making her feel accepted into the group. Even during the serious meeting she had appreciated the warm greeting both Raela and Gent had expressed towards her, as well as an instance to offer her opinions. But she couldn’t deny the fact that every time the wolf laid her dark brown eyes on the male, a fire lit inside of her.

She was thrilled with the idea of fighting him, of challenging him, of someday defeating him in battle. The young wolf had fought the brute once before—only a day after her acceptance—but was bested quickly by the man. The tension between the two was obvious and she felt it every time his icy eyes connected with hers. Still, Moraxia had hopes this trip would be a good time to reveal some of his sensitive side to contrast the recent strain of emotions within the pack.

Still, she simply just wanted to know him better; so she waited, admiring the silence of winter.