The summer air was ripe with the chatter of birds feasting on the stubby trees' red fruit, but their wild squawking fell on deaf ears. Quicksilver was not interested in what they had to say - nor was she interested in stepping in any bitten up cherries - and thus kept her distance from the thick of the orchard and found a seat in the shade on the outskirts. On any other day she wouldn't be anywhere near here. Of course, this wasn't any other day.

The Ghastly Woods had changed as of late and Quick, who was not fond of change, needed to venture beyond the thick, gnarled branches. In recent times the Keep was more empty than usual. It felt as though half her pack mates were missing. And perhaps they were. Quick hadn't made friends of them, anyway... with one dark exception. The arctic female avoided thinking about him, too, recalling how jarring it was to feel in waves when he'd been around. No, she much preferred having no friends. Truth be told it was a good way to live for the icy female. She'd gotten the pack benefit without the pack camaraderie and it had been so easy to live her life in solitude without starvation. But wasn't there some stupid saying that all good things had to end? It didn't seem so stupid now.

Etched into her white features was a permanent frown. She looked out of place: a winter wolf, hiding underneath the trees in such a sweet-smelling grove. Quick began to wonder if she had actually felt out of place all along. It seemed the choices she made were never quite what she thought they were in the beginning. Silver eyes trained to the grass she sat in silent contemplation, half-hoping a spit of destiny might come along.