Her son Anatole is with her. Hope that's okay.

Having previously traveled from the far reaches of the Canadian wilderness, Aurèle had come across roads before. They had been strange at first, but she had grown to use them in her time. It cut down the need to stalk through overgrowth. Experience had taught her that often times the easiest way was the best. If she could make her life easier then she would not only survive, but thrive. This was how she had managed for four years, and living in AniWaya had not changed this. She did not need to worry about food, but she always hunted for herself, and always made her son do the same. He was not allowed to become complacent.

The two were making their way down the highway. Anatole had grown in his time within the tribe and was taller than his mother. He had filled out and his build was certainly a combination of his much larger father and the arctic blood his mother had given him. This pleased Aurèle. Though still young and still brash, her son was perfect in her eyes. Though usually bored with her tasks, he was excited about this new place—where they had lived had no roads, and the highway was different. Though he was quite calm in his walk, she was able to see the excitement in his face.
They had not gotten far from AniWaya when they had caught the scent. It was a male wolf from the tribe, one neither of them recognized. Deciding to follow it, Anatole led his mother along the road, which she willingly allowed. This was an essential part of his learning. If he could ignore the strange new exciting things around him and find his prey, he would be moving along as a hunter.

So when he came to a sudden halt, dark body still, the woman was even further pleased to see he had found the culprit. A male wolf was putting something around his neck and admiring it. Without touching her son, Aurèle passed him and approached. “Find some treasure?” She asked.

Even if Aurèle had been from a different pack, she would not have been out for blood. Killing wolves was below her. This was not to say she had not done so before, of course, but she had no need to do so now. Her pack was a peaceful one and had no need to begin battles. Regardless, this wolf was an AniWaya member and seemed friendly enough, so they would have no problems.

A magic necklace. She snorted callously, her eyes turning wicked for a moment. Tayui would have loved to hear such a story, given how she still believed in ghosts and all sorts of stupid wonders. If the two had been speaking, she might have mentioned it to her. As it stood, Aurèle had not seen her sister or her nephew since the news of Noir’s death had been delivered. That forest was not so different from this one. Boughs reached across the cleared road for one another, reached to the wolves and sought them with blackened hook-like fingers. The lack of light was enough to make the world dim, even with their night vision. Aurèle’s coat took on a ghastly blue-black hue, the color of a fresh bruise, while Anatole nearly disappeared into the shadows.

“My name is Aurèle, and this is my son, Anatole.” As she said this, the boy advanced. He was still young, not yet a year old, but his size was remarkable. This pleased his mother greatly. “We were exploring the road, much like yourself.” Training yet, but this was not something their new companion needed to know.

There was a stillness in her son, even as he moved, that reminded Aurèle of his father. She had never explained that to him, and never would. Anatole had not needed to know about such things. He was better off the way he was. Though she did not know it, the boy’s father had done a great many terrible things in his time on earth. One day, perhaps, she would find this out. In her heart she knew—the dream that had brought her the crow told her so.

At the man’s comment, Aurèle smiled in a way that did not meet her eyes. She found scavenging for human things stupid. The only things humans had ever made for her use was fire-water, which numbed her thoughts and made her forget. She did not touch the stuff anymore. The night with the green eyed stranger had taught her that lesson, though she reasoned it back to her children. She was a perfect mother, in her opinion. Far better than her sister, who had produced weakness. “There’s no need for it,” she explained, her accent voice rising in the night air. “We’re going to follow the road out and then back, if you would like to join us. Best to know the areas around your home, after all,” she added, looking briefly to Anatole. He snorted air out of his nose, frustrated by the idea of a tag-along.

Though her sister had taken to human things, Aurèle was a true wolf. She lived in the now. She was bored with the past, bored with old dusty bones and things that stunk like must and dead leaves. The past did not matter. All that mattered was the now and the then, which she had ensured by having Anatole. He would make her immortal. Her ambition was great, and her son’s would be equally so.

Despite her son’s obvious grumblings, the white she-wolf took the lead with her broad-shouldered child not far behind. Above, the dark shadow of a crow followed. Neither of the wolves seemed too concerned by its presence. As they went, Aurèle slowed only to sniff the air once or twice. “Anatole, what do you smell?” The dark coated wolf lifted his head, taking several deep breaths. “Another wolf came by here a day ago. Male. Loner. Shouldn’t be a problem,” he added, green eyes glimmering darkly.