The slight boned female had risen early, stealing away from the rustic ranch house before dawn had taken its first breaths. Winter was far from her favorite season; however, she was better able to tolerate it as the months stretched on. Geneva knew that spring would return eventually, and she put her hopes to rest in that fact. She shivered lightly against the cold, her gray coat only partially protecting her slender form from the cold. Her winter coat never grew in very fully; it had been a byproduct of her sickness in her childhood. But she had adjusted to it, and if she kept moving at a brisk pace she hardly made note of the cold anymore.
Periodically she would look for her son, who she had yet to see on this gloomy winter day. However, her blue eyed boy was elusive as always. Geneva could accept that as a fact of life, because her boy was growing into a full fledged adult. But that did not mean she had to like it. Healthy growth she could handle, but it did not keep her from missing Pripyat one bit. She was not often lonely for company. As the Savant, she often spoke to her pack mates. But her son’s company was something she often coveted.
The gray scale lady caught a glimpse of a still form over the peak of a snow drift. Lime green eyes scanned the boundaries of the Valley pack’s land carefully as she determined that someone seemed to be waiting. The slight wolfess went to her unerringly, her eyes drinking in the details of the female before her. ”Are you waiting for someone or something?” Geneva asked mildly, eyes resting squarely on the lone female. She couldn’t be anymore than a year old, if that.
WC 300