Apparently more Archer’s were on their way to the lands of Lore. They were travelling north from a place her father had never been to—where her grandmother on her Archer side hailed from. Despite being a little unnerved, she was still excited to meet her other cousins. Especially since, like Romanov, they were the same age as she was. It didn’t sound like they were going to arrive for another week or so, which meant the little fox would have endure a few more solo adventures before meeting her relatives. Not that she minded. She could always call for her parents if she wished for company, but she never craved the presence of others. As outgoing and talkative as she was, she had picked up a few of her father’s traits, which included the desire to be alone.

Snow had found its way to the bottom of the mountain. It littered the mosses, covering most of the green with a blanket of white. There were a few plants that managed to poke through, as the weather had been inconsistent, which meant the snow struggled to linger on lower elevations. There were a few tracks littering the ground, unknown scents clinging to them as she meandered through the territory, her fiery eyes seeking something—or someone—to capture her attention.