"Whatever it is, Trisden, you need to let it go. You're carrying so much, and you simply don't need to. Talk to me."

She had growled at him and said some harsh things before turning on her tail and prowling away. He had sighed, shaken his head, and said, "You know you won't get anywhere weighed down like that. You can run away when you've dropped the shackles."

She pretended that she hadn't heard, but he was right. A few hours later, she had slinked back, pride burning, and refused to speak to anyone.

[dohtml]---[/dohtml]

The morning had been an exceptionally cold one, with the wind whistling through the Cedarwood carrying a bitter chill. She had been loathe to leave the comfort of the den, filled with warm bodies, but Trisden was not one for idleness. Such a thing as weather would not stop her from her duties, not unless it swept her off her feet and never set her down again. It was without regret that she stole away with a silent au revior to her packmates, a promise to be back again before nightfall. If the day was particularly uneventful, she may even return sooner.

She had planned to visit the marshland today. Having spent most of the last week under the cover of her forest, she desired some open sky above her head. She had left the den early enough to still glimpse some stars by the time she got there, though they faded in the sunlight almost within minutes. Silently she watched, breathing the crisp air, stood among the thin reeds as they swayed in the wind. It was peaceful here, and beautiful in its winter coat. Once upon a time she may have been inclined to pray, but those days were over.

It did not stop her from glancing at the sky with an angry eye, just for a moment... but then the moment passed and she relaxed again.

Feeling too serene to get worked up, she turned away and slowly, carefully picked her way through the marshes, the ground frozen in places where it was ordinarily wet. Familiar with the land, she knew which patches of ice not to trust, where the water was deeper. Softly she hummed a tuneless tune, engrossed in her simple task and the comfort of familiar surroundings.

The wind blew towards her and carried the female's scent with it. Relaxed as she was, Trisden did not immediately tense at the knowledge that she was not entirely alone, but that was in part because she easily recognised the markers of a wolf who was alone. Though far from intimidating, Trisden did carry the power of a pack behind her, and even if she was a little far from their borders all she had to do was call and run. She was safe. With that in mind, she resumed the soft tune, half expecting never to cross the loner's path anyway. When the scent only grew stronger, Trisden paused, ears up, and she gazed in the direction that the breeze had come.

A figure appeared before long, white and lean and absent-minded, and Trisden watched almost casually as the stranger strolled roughly in her direction, feeling calm about the situation. It was not hard to see from the angle of hip bones that food was not readily available to this woman, though perhaps that was not entirely true. Her lips tweaked up as she saw the bulging belly, and unless there was something terribly wrong with this stranger's health - which she didn't believe was so, from the condition of the rest of her - she had struck meaty gold not long before.

The white woman finally noticed that she was not alone, and stood silently, surprised. Trisden took an easy step forward, tail twitching to mirror the other's own - she had rank, but she could not exercise it here, and nor did she feel inclined to. It was not as satisfying imposing her rank on random loners to whom it meant little, not that her rank was particularly desirable in the first place. "Hello," she called, ears pricking, eyes alight with polite curiosity, wanting to be sociable. She glanced over at the woman's belly and smirked. "Was the grizzly a rough lay?"