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Often times Hemming was prone to wandering after sunset, when the night was like a curtain and the stars, no longer blanketed by the light of the sun, were free to poke out their heads. Dagrun frequently joined him on these little meanderings, as he forded rivers and waded through landscapes covered in snow, and as usual she sat quite cheerfully on the top of his head. There was something about the cool January night that was immensely refreshing, as if the air was newer than it usually was, and the Gatlvska breathed deeply and peered upwards. He sometimes tried to pick out constellations that the humans had invented, and though their stories were intriguing he found a certain amount of joy in finding his own forms and grasping for their stories. They were usually related to his own life, with tribal leaders and horses and spirit guides represented in the abstract arrangement of points of light. Less and less frequently did he imagine that the forms in the sky were the types of those he had read in human books, the detectives and the kings of old. AniWaya life had grown on him quickly and managed to sustain that growth as he continued to live there. There was no better place, he reflected as he saw a flicker of light born in the distance.
Curious as to who was starting a fire now and hungry for a bit of company, the wolf headed towards the flame. He recognized the girl from a distance, and a wide smile pulled across his face. It had disappointed him when he had learned that she had left, but Hemming imagined she was off on grand adventures. She seemed a strapping young wolf, one that could hold the world in her hands if she wanted to. Now that she was back, perhaps she had some stories to tell.
He slowed his pace as he neared, stopping close enough that he could feel the light of the fire on his face. He didn't want to startle her, and it was possible that she didn't even remember him. His greeting would be a good hint, though; the wolf bowed over slightly and said with a grin, "Lady Asha."