Namid trudged through the snow, breath fogging from her maw which hung open in a pant. Her breathing was heavy and every so often she would pause to catch her breath, a wince flinching onto her maw as a sharp pain ran through her side. Normally she would be able to make it through this no problem but her health wasn’t what it used to be. Depression had weakened her and as she neared the age of 6 she wasn’t as young as what she used to be. She was only middle aged if she was being honest but the years had not been kind to her. The once regal woman’s head no longer held high, her pale agouti pelt no longer shiny and lustrous. She was a shadow of her former self physically, but within her mismatched gaze, no matter how tired, still shone the same strong willed, kind woman that had always been there.

She decided to take another break, her path leading her beneath a cedar tree that rested next to a creek. The surface had long since frozen over and if she had been stronger she might have turned to her well-tuned fishing skills and broken through it to try and catch a meal. However that didn’t seem to be in the cards for her that day, so instead she rested beneath the skeletal tree.

She hadn’t heard nor noticed the yearling’s approach, but even when the words came out of nowhere she didn’t startle. She didn’t have the energy to put up such a reaction. Instead, the woman simply turned her head to get a look at the wolf who had joined her. Tawny and simple, a little taller than herself with a pair of bright yellow eyes peering from her face. There was nothing significant about her new company, yet there was a niggling of recognition in the back of her brain. Like it was trying to piece together similarities but it didn’t know what it was piecing together to resemble her to. Perhaps it was just her coloring as she’d seen plenty of wolves with a dusty agouti pelt. Hell, some of her own children had it.

“Namid Vuesain,” she said simply, feeling no need to hide who she was. Her attention turned back to looking at the frozen landscape, mismatched gaze looking quietly across it. The wind rustled the branches of the tree and she inhaled, a peaceful sensation filling her. She glanced once again at the girl next to her before returning to her meditative state. “Are you going to just stand there or are you going to sit and give me some company,” she asked, though there was no sarcasm or malice in her voice. No, the former matriarch had no room in her state for such things. Her words were soft and kind, wispy in a way that showed the tiredness that matched her eyes. The yearling could stay or leave, it didn’t matter much. Once she’d caught her breath and rested her muscles she would be on the move again anyways. She was still a few days out from her destination and wanted to try and make as good time as possible.

Namir was certainly...free..with her vocabulary. She didn’t think she’d ever heard someone use such language so consistently, but who was she to judge? It seemed it was just the way that the girl had been raised, a lifestyle she supposed. She couldn’t help the little bit of indignation that flared in her chest as she spoke about the Cove not being that great and basically saying that she’d be crazy for staying there. Namid had put a lot of time effort into her home and considered it to be practically perfect, but she also knew to each their own. Something told her that the perspective wasn’t completely unbiased either, especially not as she went on. In fact, if seemed like she didn’t hate the Cove at all. Rather, she hated her mother and everything associated with her. Desideria was the basis for all of this and while she had only had good opinions of her friend she couldn’t say the girl’s anger wasn’t warranted.

The redheaded woman had never mentioned having a daughter, something that Namid was sure she herself would mention right off the bat and had many times when meeting new wolves. If her subordinate had left the girl practically for dead then she had a right to her opinion. It wouldn’t change how Namid felt about the deceased but she could see her perspective.

“I suppose it is not for everyone,” she replied, a hum in her voice. “I cannot say that I think what your mother did was right. She was my best friend, as I seemed she told you, but it does not warrant abandoning a child. It will not mean anything I am sure, but I am sorry that she did what she did. You deserved better,” she commented, mismatched gaze turning on the girl with a strong glimmer of honesty. “If you had been my daughter, they would have had to pry you from my cold dead jaws. But, we can never know what the dead had intended because they are just that. Dead. Even with my beliefs I can acknowledge that. We all die someday, I just hope you do not let her mistakes drag you into oblivion.” Namir didn’t seem like the philosophical type like the wolf she was named after was, but even then she hoped that she could take heed in her words. Maybe not forgive, maybe not forget, but move on.