Namid had sat down for a moment near the lake, her pale pelt fluffed up against the buffeting winter winds that blew across the surface of the now very frozen lake. It would yet still be a few more weeks until they could think of the possibility of ice fishing, but the snow that had fallen created light pillars across the glass surface. Trodding forward she stepped on the ice at the shallows, pressing down gently then stepping back as it gave way beneath her paw. She did this a few more times until she had broken a sizeable hole, then bent her head to lap at the water hissing at the ache it caused in her teeth. But it was quite refreshing to her freezer burnt throat. The Queen of the Lake moved to a sitting position once again, rolling her shoulder thoughtfully. It had been a little over a month since her run in with that nasty mountain goat, and she was still recovering slightly from the deep gash it had mauled into her. A crusted red scar ran down the length of it, parting the hairs slightly. No doubt it would be much more visible during the summer months when her pelt was much less dense, but she held no shame about it. She had gotten the scar protecting what was hers and protecting her family, and she was not so vain as to take ill will against such a blemish.

The wind whipped harshly against her, causing her to squint her mismatched gaze as water gathered from her tear ducts which she blinked away. With the wind came the sound of rough coughing, her auds perking and a frown turning down the edges of her maw. Coughing like that was never good during the winter months, it often meant sickness or disease which could easily cripple not only the one wolf but an entire pack. Worry gripped her soft heart and she was on her feet almost immediately, traveling toward the sound to see whom and from whence it came. Her tracking led her into the shelter of the bare pine trees, which lifted the assault of the wind ever so slightly. Tucked behind a tree, in a fit of coughing, was their aspiring guardian Nathaniel. Her look was soft as she remembered his brother, one of the best wolves she had ever known who was up and disappeared on them one day. She had meant to see how he was doing, perhaps have a heart to heart with him in case he should need to talk. He had already lost his siblings once, and now he’d lost them both again. It had to have been a blow colder than the weather around them.

“Nathaniel, are you alright?” she inquired, bringing herself around the tree. Her nose extended ever so slightly to check his scent, finding no trace of the familiar scent of sickness on him. If he weren’t sick, then what could be causing him to behave in such a way? Hopefully she would know a method of helping him.