Feb 1st, dusk, broken clouds -9.49 ° F, -23.05 ° C
For @Avella
For @Avella
A realm of threadbare winter willows greeted one of their heirs as he returned from his day's journeys. The dying light of evening painted a beautiful, but bruised color over the landscape. The only sound was the gentle crunching of his paws in the frosted snow and the airy quiet of the season.
Things were much quieter at home, too. Iseldir had taken to journeying further each day. The boy liked to be alone with the birds and the trees and the winter wind. The whole world almost seemed to be sleeping, though in a different way than during the night. Its mysteries and treasures could still be discovered, and studied. Sometimes even brought back home.
The young Archer was aware things were not ideal. Their pack had dwindled down to just their core family unit, and though Iz had every faith in the Archer line, it was apparent that everyone was feeling the strain. Today, he had not found food, not some new water source as Daegal had sought. But a blue flower, pale as the silvered sky, a sign that spring was surely not so far away even as frost gleamed on its petals. A token of better things to come, and he could think of no one better to deliver this token to than the queen of the realm herself, his mother Avella.