Nineva walked the foothills of the mountain, just where the willow trees thinned and gave way to great drifts of snow and towering slate. She remembered scrambling through the gravel and loam, to where the ground was more rock than dirt, and diving into the trees that managed to take root. Chased by a flock of noisy geese. Her eyes followed the peaks, stark white against the blue winter sky, and she wondered if Cernan was still there, living peacefully by the lake. If he still shared her fear. Or if instead, his pack shared the Hollow's fate.
She stretched under the sunlight, banishing such nostalgic thoughts from her head. The past served no purpose other than teaching lessons, and dwelling certainly did not aid growth. The only reason she would need to know about the Cove's wellbeing is to form relations when she established her own pack, but she had unfortunately made no progress toward that and anyways, wasn't certain how far she would travel before being satisfied with the distance placed between herself and the forests of the west.
Her mood had been far too sour, really, to seek out company, much less recruit others to her cause. It would be difficult too, in the thick of winter, to find the able bodied individuals she intended to seek. Yet Spring would bring an opportunity she refused to pass up, and so it was a challenge she would have to overcome. A mindset she would need to put herself in.
A sigh left her lips, as she finally let the tension soften from her shoulders and spine. She had to let go of her anger.