Raela lifted her head as she moved, pacing easily through the mixed fall forest. The breeze swept against her face and over her muzzle, cool and crisp. To other species this may have been considered chilly, but to her, now all but covered in an increasing amount of cozy soft fur, the temperature was near perfect. Though the world was going dormant, it always felt so fresh this time of year. Autumn had always been her preferred season; the endlessly annoying insects all but retreated, she could jog for hours and not overheat, and some of the trees were just breathtaking in their beauty.
Last autumn came with horrible memories, but here, striding through her and Gent's forest, with her children probably frolicking and exploring their changing world, it was hard to dwell on them. This was undoubtedly the best situation Raela had ever found herself in, even with the pack's relatively small numbers and the recent disappearance of their skilled hunter Merys, it was still better than the aftermath at the Crest, and surely superior to life on her own or with her birth pack. There would always be some stressor in her life somewhere, and she suspected that this winter would be no gentler than the last, but things were holding together. All of her litter was alive and safe and growing, which was almost a miracle in itself. As long as the little pack held on, there was a future for them.
There was a specific member of that pack that the Queen sought out today, someone she hadn't spent as much time with since the aforementioned brood arrived. It was hard to check up on everyone as she preferred too, with those three hogging her attentions, but they were bigger now; almost old enough to roam the Notch's woodlands on their own, though the thought still unsettled her. The girl was not a difficult wolf to find, and the young woman's trail led straight to the waterside. It was heavily mixed with the smell of various plants, though the scent of Sylva herself was by now, distinctly part plant. The young woman had taken to her chosen bailiwick with gusto, and Raela couldn't have been happier.
She thought to greet the youngster early, because Sylva was just as likely to squeak and tumble into the springs as she was to be simply startled if one didn't give her a head's up from enough distance. "Hey Sylva,"she greeted amiably, still a few yards back in the woods. The matriarch then strode casually out from the trees, tail held aloft and wagging gently. She was probably sorting herbs, judging by the piles of various neatness strewn about the grass. As to what they were, Raela was near clueless. She never had made up for her herb-less childhood curriculum. Unless it was poisonous, she had no idea.