The weather was unusually warm; a good sign for the wolves of Lore. It meant spring was on its way after hibernating, impatiently, for a few months. The days would grow longer, the sun would become brighter—warmer—and a wave of new life would wash over the lands. Lachesis was hopeful for Driftwood—as long as his subordinates followed the breeding rules he would not have to worry. Last year they had survived and managed to keep all five cubs together (he still wasn’t quite sure how they’d managed so well). They had the numbers this year to deal with multiple litters, but after the move and the drama that had ensued in Hearthwood, Lachesis did not want to risk it. They needed to do things right; establish themselves. Perhaps next year Lachesis and Lilya would be a little more lenient… if they had the space, of course. The ghost had been surprised at how much the pack had grown, even after leaving Inna behind in Hearthwood. Both André and Lekalta were still missing, which made him worry, but their numbers remained strong.

There was hope for the river wolves.

He padded along the defrosted lakeshore, his chartreuse gaze sweeping over the mirror-like water. He was curious as to how cold the water was but dared not venture further, even if the fish below the surface beckoned him forward…

The frozen edges of the lake didn’t look too treacherous… Lachesis could easily create a path to deeper water in order to catch a few fish to bring back to Driftwood… he just had to find the right place…

A splash from behind him nearly caused the ghost to jump out of his skin. He stumbled backward before spinning around, the fur on the back of his neck raised as his hackles lifted. He’d been too engrossed in the lake water to pay attention to his surroundings—a poor move on Lachesis’ part. However, he was pleased to discover the pale shape in the distance; his pale shoulders sagged in relief. He almost would have mistaken the youth for his own daughter if had not been for the golden irises. Caelean. He The earthy odour of Driftwood latched onto the boy’s fur was impossible to miss, along with Anastasia’s familiar scent. The blue-eyed dove had been quite taken with the cub since she returned with him. She was the most patient wolf Lachesis knew; therefore, she was the perfect teacher for the boy.

Caelean, he exhaled in relief, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. What brings you to the lake? Lake Worry. Lachesis’ favourite spot in the Lore. If it had been up to him he would’ve claimed the entire lake as theirs, but the ghost knew that wasn’t fair to passing loners. It was one of the main sources of water in the north; he couldn’t take it away from those passing through.