I guess it goes to show, does it not?

THAT WE'VE NO IDEA WHAT WE'VE GOT UNTIL WE LOSE IT

Ally wasn't sure if she would get in trouble for this, but she'd finally left the territory. This time she was sure to go slow enough that she would be able to find her way back, and she wasn't going far. Just enough to gather her thoughts. If everything went well she would be back before anybody realized she was gone. Not even going to stay the night out.

The plan. Just see some sights and go home. Prove she could do this. Be a better pack member, pull her own weight, make her father proud. She could do this. But she needed to get herself together.

Ally heard the faint trickling of water and mindlessly steered her paws toward the sound, stopping when she could see a frozen waterfall, only a thin stream of water still running. It was beautiful, if almost allegorical. She felt like that waterfall, stuck in place and only running on instinct, on necessity. Eating because she must, walking because she could not sit still, but her spirit locked in ice. Her head tilted as she considered it.

Wind tugged at her fur and she turned to watch the snow swirl around her. It poofed up, forming for a heartbeat into a shape not dissimilar to her father, and then vanished. In that blink Ally could swear she felt his eyes on her, felt him look into her soul. "Dad," she croaked, stumbling forward, to the spot where the snow had already settled, as if she could bring the vision back, bring him back, and everything would be alright again.

But she couldn't, and it wouldn't.