The rains had long since washed away any remaining trace of her brothers scent and yet onward she continued, past the eerie twisted thick canopy of the Sacred Grove and on towards the sound of falling water. The sound made her feel sick to her stomach, her brothers tales of young Malia falling through the ice... She had already had nightmares about finding her young sibling cold and still... his fur soaked to the bone.
Her voice had grown hoarse from calling out to every rustle in the undergrowth, her pads burned from the sheer distance she had travelled, barely managing to sleep and not daring to return home empty handed. She needed the water, and yet she feared what it’s shore might reveal.
A dry salmon tongue passed over her dark edged lips as she paused for a moment to gather her nerve. She knew she needed to drink, she needed to check... and make sure her brother hadn’t... drowned.
After gathering her breath and her nerve she made her way towards the crashing water of the falls, allowing her pads to drag through the shallow water of an overflowing stream. The freezing water fresh no doubt from the melting snow much higher soothing the dull pain right out of them. The closer she drew the mistier the air became until the turbulent pool was before her.
There was no stench of death here, no boulders small enough to be mistaken for the broken body of a cub just two moons old. With a sigh of relief she lowered her dark head to quench her thirst, before she would continue on her journey North.