It had taken a few days to reach the woods, deliberately skirting well to the west to avoid the two packs between. In that time, she had grown comfortable with the white wolf at her side, the feral darkness never quite sneaking up on her as it had done so many times before. It seemed companionship was the key here. Good thing she had almost gathered enough for them to take their leave, then she would rarely have reason to be on her own again.
It would almost be quicker to travel directly to the place she had first thought of from here, up and over the mountain, but they still had others to collect, and her children. Now the ball was rolling, she felt solid determination in her soul. She walked every inch the queen. They would not be kept from her. What was rightfully hers, would not be taken from her again. They would pay with blood if they tried.
Finally, they came back to her old den, so close to where she had seen him last. Her nose fell to the ground as she sought a scent, something fresh. Something new.
She didn’t want to call out, not here among the haunted trees, ghostly whispers weaving through the branches. These woods were old, who knew what other secrets they hid? What other dangers... It was part of what had drawn her here when she first came to the lands, gnarled trees, so thick that they blocked out the sun, branches caressing her in welcome... now that she had lived in the open, her face caressed constantly with fresh mountain air, she doubted she could ever happily reside under such a dense canopy again, even if it felt like home.
Finally, the breeze carried to her a whiff of the one she sought, and small smile graced her lips as butterflies kicked up a storm in her stomach. She should have come sooner. What if he had changed his mind? In silence, she moved towards the scent, seeking the tawny man that did such funny things to her.
<b style="color:#642c4a; font:Georgia;">“Speech”