The small female trekked quietly up the goat trail, her tail swaying behind her as she had completed her daily ritual of watching the sun rise and set, though the hazy blanket of clouds had caused the latter experience to be duller than usual, unable to watch the golden ball of light drift unobstructed over the horizon. A soft sigh escaping as the huntress thought over the pack’s progression and the cold grip of winter that surrounded them. Though it reminded her greatly of home, Saradathia had a lot more to be grateful for this time. A good strong pack, even a relative, her sister no less had found her way within Whitestone’s embrace.
Pausing mid stride upon the rocks as voices caught her attention, feeling a little more social than usual, Saradathia started further up the Monadnock instead of stopping at the den’s entrance. Catching the tail end of Piety’s comment the scarred wolf glanced upwards toward the sky. “Well, the view above might be gone, but there’s always a great view below.” she said quietly, coming upon Lorcan’s other side and glancing downward toward the snow covered plains “There’s a lot of subtly beauty in the way the snow covers the land, rocks jutting out here and there, it really makes a unique scene.” becoming used to most of the pack’s ways of close contact, Saradathia decided to test it, settling down next to Lorcan’s flank, in a sphinx like position to where their sides could brush "it’s a scene that's best enjoyed with family.”