Sorry about the wait~
500+
Mirth flickered briefly over the maw of the wolf as she observed her packmate’s enjoyment of the pool. The pool was, indeed, a beautiful creature. The Warrior’s mind was alerted by a sound that had emerged from the voice of the stranger, a sound that was familiar—a name. But before she could fully contemplate it, the voice had continued. The white pack mate had arrived in the winter. Cwmfen found that strangely fitting, for the colour of her coat and the shades of her eyes were truly reminiscent of the wintertime. This white woman, however, had not been among the Dahlian ranks for long, then. The having-returned wolf wondered, then, how much could be known. As thoughts moved through the black fae as the fish moved through the pool, silence was chosen above speech. The weary traveler shifted her position slightly allowing for tension to be released into the clutches of the pool.
The white orbs seemed to watch the optime with a slow and steady gaze. That gaze, however, was not critical nor unfriendly. Instead, a measured contemplation moved through the impenetrable, milky depths, perhaps for the attention that this female had given to a single, fading scent within the Dahlian pack. The warrior, perhaps, was impressed, and she wondered at the trade this white woman had chosen by which to live. "Yes, Dahlia was my home once before," the soft alto confirmed. The woaded wolf gave a nearly imperceptible nod. "I came here two years ago, and eventually I came to lead Dahlia alongside Cercelee and beneath Haku." There was a brief pause as she considered the Lilium, remembering what he had given and taken to and from her, and from the pack as well. She had no doubt as to the end of the path that the chocolate and cream leader had followed. "I left almost a year ago. But I’ve returned again, and I hope to call Dahlia home for a good measure of time." Or until Death took her. As a Warrior, she was anticipating and prepared for her death.
A brief silence had been permitted to follow. The Woaded wolf’s mind returned to the sound—the name—that had been spoken before. She recognized that sound now for what it was, tying it to a brief memory—an encounter, a scent—that had been stored within her mind long ago. Kol. A member of Dahlia. Brennt had wounded her, and Cwmfen had gone after him. That single name re-awakened so many memories, but the Warrior concentrated on the most relevant. Where was the black Stormbringer wolf? She had not seen her since her return, nor found any recent traces. "You are Kol’s sister," the alto melody mused aloud. "What has become of her?" The black Warrior, while never discounting the possibility, could not know that Kol Stormbringer had found the other side of the River. Cwmfen sensed, however, that something was amiss with the mention of the absent female, for she could not miss the touch of sadness that seemed to move through the white-furred woman.