Overcast — Current Temperature: 32° F/0° C , early morning.
Morning dawned grey over the Bend - the sun slid from behind the horizon to behind a thick layer of clouds as if it were hiding its face from the beasts below. Despite the dreary cold, Nayeli rose to greet the new day. Her breath steamed in the early morning air as she trotted through the territory, trying to warm her blood and shake off the night's lingering grasp on her. She had no explicit agenda, but since joining the pack the lady had lapsed into a loose routine of exploring, patrolling, and keeping her senses alert in case of the rare sign of food. Often she haunted about the borders, still hopeful one of her kin might find their way to this place, but ready to deal with any signs of danger or any one of the hundred things that were more likely than what she hoped for. Still, she hoped.
When will this winter end? the she-wolf wondered, feeling defiant against nature itself. This region lay further north than her birthplace, and she felt sure that spring would already have returned to her homeland... how long would her new home be locked in winter's choke-hold? Had winter not sated it's thirst for death yet? She paused to gaze at the massive oak tree before her. Somehow today her paws had guided her to the heart of the territory rather than the outskirts, and the great oak brought her to a thoughtful halt. Looking at it, it seemed all but dead, but something waited beneath the surface, not shown. When spring finally came, she felt this tree would be one of the first to show signs of life. She wanted to see it then, swathed in the emerald finery of new life. Winter lies too long; hangs on until it is stale and shabby, old and sullen.