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Today was Sheauga's birthday.

Wardruna had previously been looking for little gifts in the weeks prior on her border patrols, storing them away somewhere safe and where Sheauga would not be privy of the placement.

In the early hours before the sun had even awaken (consistently starting her day early and ending it late, as Sheauga knew) Wardruna had left her den to collect the trinkets and situate them outside the other woman's den opening.

It was a collection of random bird feathers Wardruna had no name of other then the black raven feature with the blue sheen. There was also a mix of flowers, mistletoe, cranberry, and herbs- some of which were straight up useless weeds because Wardruna didn't know what she was doing. There was a few strips of dried meat made by her sister Journey, pressed with nutmeg and rosemary, a throw back to when Sheauga gave her this at the festival. Last, a pelt of a mostly white arctic fox, it's points being a dark gray.

When she was finished laying the gifts out and as the sun rose at a new day, Wardruna woofed lowly into the den, hoping to stir the woman within.