Arlette Dieudonné Lyall

The young lady was notde profundis , but she was trying again. Arlette made sure to give a final look to the resting grounds of her brothers, try to hold onto something genuine that she was here, and she needed to put in a better effort of who she wanted to be as she still could. A couple unwinding breaths, she felt she could tell the Hollow goodbye, temporarily at least. She knew the next place she wanted to go, the Mountain of Dire. Raising on her toes, she squinted her eyes just right where she looked to be setting nose upon its icy top. Strange to think she had been there once, but the same had not. Falling flat to her paws, a ruffled breath parted her lips, and her toes fidgeted. She kept wanting to think then what? Arlette did not know, and of coarse it scared her! The mountain would take a good few days, and she wanted to force herself to rest, to eat properly which she really did not need to remind her body. White tail curling, and uncurling with an invisible shove she was off, making sure not to look back at the cedar woods, at the shadow of home. Forward, that was what was next. The two year old made good progress she thought, out of the forest, through the creek, and into the wood that reminded her of some story of heaven and hell. While her light colored yellow irises eagerly sought for the snowy cap, it began to fade the deeper she wandered into this place. Suddenly, she became very aware how alone she was without a familiar embrace of any kind or direct course. When the path darkened how easy her eyes darted along the shadows, her nose deciphering for danger. While she may have been lucky enough to come across Fenru, she did not count on any more occurrences. There was a cry in her throat, threatening to build thinking about him because he must be on the other side of the mountain. Long gone, and unlikely to see the fickle girl for a third time. Lettie was sure there was only a certain number of times he could be nice to her. Briefly, she tried to draw up how she could thank him, let him know she did appreciate his simple kindness. That drew up a big blank, she had nothing to give. Lettie was not given much time to beat herself up further on the issue, she smelled a wolf, and something dead. While her own stomach growled for such a morsel, she trekked lightly. The white wolf would not pick out the silver wolf among the dull toned surroundings at first. There she was, standing out a snow bank in spring, trying not to let her levels of fear rise.