When I leave for the night I ain't coming back

Feel it in your bones post prompt 1 - Morganna is feeling rebellious

sola bona quae honesta

Morganna

Those things only are good which are honest

Far from the watchful gaze of @Angier, and the protective shadow of her brothers, @Asriel and @Sköll, the Archer princess stalked, her nose delving into snow drifts here and there, her aching stomach driving her on. A lemming would suffice for now, something so frozen that all it tasted of was ice even. In her short life so far all she had known was food and shelter, and the winter had long since clawed away at one of those things. The weather had been fraying her patience ever steadily, and if she had to endure even one more of her brothers pranks on an empty stomach...

Well, she was well clear of them for now... Or so she hoped.

The trees that stood sentinel over this strange place were much more dense than the wispy willow fronds she was accustomed to. The air here felt heavy and stank of rotting wood. While the earth beneath her feet seemed to hum with an ethereal presence that made the hair on her neck stand on end, it was relatively abandoned. She was yet to encounter a loner, or a wolf that wasn’t of her own pack (with the exception of that strange silver woman that bought them food). She had no experiences yet to instill fear in her young mind and now barely discernible from the adults she was almost sure she could hold her own if someone needed to be put in their place...

Not that she was convinced there ever were other wolves anymore... The snow seemed to swallow up everything.

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Gent had long since ceased his stalking, traveling now at a casual lope. Stealth seemed to be nothing but a waste of focus the further he traveled; what he was looking for did not exist, the wintry white hand of god seemed to have wiped it clear from the face of the earth. So then what was he still doing, traveling this far south? He was a bit of a ways from home now, with nothing to show for his pains. Perhaps it was time to turn back. Baby blues drifted, lifting to the heights of the pass that borded the odd grove, the peaks just barely visible as the sky swirled a rare color of grays and faint ceruleans. The snows had taken to resting, and the over all calm in the atmosphere only served to embellish the intangible dynamism that seeped from the ground beneath his paws. It reminded him of the woods that had become the Pass wolves' winter domain, and only seemed to further indicate that it was time to return. Halting, he took a moment to muse over this. The woods stood apart in the health of their foliage, but the feel of them was the same. Perhaps if he kept moving forward, the foliage would deteriorate and he would find himself at Hollowheart Keep's doorstep, an infinite loop, the rest of the world completely cut away from them by the season's tantrums. What was the saying? You could only get so far before you start coming back? Or maybe there was something out here. Gent pulled in a large huff of air, fully analyzing the stray scent of a fellow wolf. She was young, and belonged to an unfamiliar pack. Intrigued, the boy set forth once more. It was a short distance between them, and she was already traveling in his direction; within moments, he launched himself up onto a wind-built bank of snow and surveyed his surroundings, anticipating catching sight of the girl. "Olly olly oxen free," he muttered, reclining in wait for her appearance.

Iamsoterrible... Sorry for the wait.

sola bona quae honesta

Morganna

Those things only are good which are honest

Olly olly oxen free... The voice could have well been one of her brothers, it carried a familiar tone of youth and yet it was so very unfamiliar. It caused the hairs along her spine to bristle in a mixture of agitation and fear (although she would never admit to the latter). Her ears twisted atop her head and her chin dipped low to protect the vital area of her neck, as her mother had taught her. Her tail flagged high over her back as she strode in the direction of the voice, a growl of warning not nearly as fierce as she had hoped leading the way.

“Sum of us ‘er tryna hunt ya-no!” She declared angrily to the dense trees, peach hued eyes sliding straight over the top of the dark elder where more seasoned eyes may have paused. Never mind her own much louder exclamation would have scared anything for a good mile around, she was the princess, and this commoner, whoever he may be had ruined her chances at a meal she was sure.

A gust of wind may have carried his scent to her was her nose not numb with the cold. Cold, coldcold, oh how she was sick of it. She would give almost anything to feel the warmth of the sun again. “Ya may as well get out ‘ere,” she declared to her silent observer. The way they remained hidden was giving her the creeps.

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