Her back was to the direction of the den whilst her mind wandered aimlessly ahead. There was no direction other than that that her paws took to carry her further away from the warm abode. Melodramatic as self-pitying came to be; yet another new emotion the woman had succumb to since her time away from the Nomads. But she found a strange peace in it just wandering, distracting the mind of unpleasant thoughts with whatever it could grasp. For now it would be the snow and the barren trees, the crisp scent of the ice and chilling wind until something more invigorating enticed her senses.
For now it would seem that company would be this new distraction. From the desolation of despair, the endless white and the rolling banks, she turned back from whence she came to see the form of her den neighbor and supposed familiar. The relationship between this boy and her mate extended well beyond the fraction of a time the lovers had spent together. There was a history yet to be explained and a forged bond she could not yet intertwine within, let alone touch. She could not share the same excitement as seeing her mate or familiar like Jace, but looked upon his distantly familiar face as yet another packwolf she knew little to nothing about. Their prior conversations had been fleeting, briefly utterances spoken in passing. This was perhaps the first time she was engaged with something akin to purpose in his voice.
Auburn locks slipped from her shoulders as she turned fully to look at him. The single lock of obsidian mane was delicately grasped between an opposable digit and index and was bothered fervently to dispel a sudden growing tension. What did he want with her, this unsuspecting cause to her reluctance to return home? None the less, she politely dipped her head in greeting though her glowing eyes lacked the familiar warmth they were known for. “A pleasure Saul,” she replied methodically. “What brings you out into the cold?”