As she marched over the border and back into the snow covered little valley, something was clearly amiss. Zia no longer carried herself so confidently, with that natural ease in her step she was renowned for. Instead, she moved slowly, as if in a daze. Her head was low, lined up with her spine, sapphire eyes downcast, her tail limp at her hindquarters. All had not gone according to plan. Far from it. Instead, it had gone terribly, terribly wrong. She shuddered, muscles quaking beneath her winter coat, a pained wince gliding over her face. Inkheart was gone...lost. She wasn't even sure if he was still alive. The ordeal of losing him had taken it's toll on her, both mentally and physically. Her normally sleek silver fur was now a ruffled, disheveled mess, patches of snow clinging to the fine hairs. She looked utterly and completely exhausted, the struggle to make it over the mountain having taken it's toll on her. She had barely made it back in time, as the rocky heights had grown slick with ice, inches upon inches of snow blocking many of the numerous pathways that led a wolf from one side to another.
Despite her fatigue, Zia was not yet ready to rest. As a wolf who upheld strict standards for herself, along with a rigorous training regimen, she would put responsibility before her personal needs first. Phineas and Borlla had to be notified, as painful as it might be for them to face the terrible news.Lingering by the outer rim of the territory, not far from the borders, Zia seated herself stiffly. Her body ached, her eyes were heavy with weariness. This nuisance was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil that gripped her being. With a deep sigh, her chest heaved as she stared at the snow, resigned. Winter had always been a favorite time of year for her, but now it was nothing but a bleak, empty eternity where time stood still. Raising her head, she parted her lips, calling for Phineas. Her voice was devoid of any emotion, hollow and empty, just as she was.