The events at the summit was far more then Wardruna could ever dream of wrapping her head around. Yet it was a threat to her family, to this world that Wardruna could not stand idly by for. After the had left the mountain, Wardruna urged her nephew Vitus to send word of what had happened to those of Northfall. Wardruna could not go home. Not now. Not yet.

But she wasnt alone. Hot on her heels was the little woman Sheauga. By no means a northern wolf, but she was nimble- she was fast and despite the frigid terrain she raced after Wardruna's tracks. Wardruna, who trudged through the snow with strong, thick legs, moved with purpose. Sheauga was so light that she nearly flew over the thick snow as she sped. It did not take the tribal woman long to catch up.

This world keep changing. If something happens, I'm grateful to have you by my side. Wardruna would press into the little woman as they trotted along.

Wardruna now only knew one brother still in this world: Arvid. She knew of only two sisters from once many: Journey and Ragnhildr. Wardruna would cradle the time she had with them dearly, in the knowing this may not always be so. It could be gone in a blink of an eye and for some, it had just that. It was these thoughts which brought her from the western coast all the way to the eastern. To see the little siblings she had yet to meet from that of her mother.

Wardruna's gut twisted while her emotions played the role of good and evil upon her dark shoulders. On one paw, she felt for her younger siblings of Freya, who wouldn't grow up following her mother's every word. Hearing stories of the God's realm beyond and the many lives which she had lived. They would not grow up with her wisdom, with her teachings, not like Wardruna and her litter had been so blessed with.

Then, on the other paw, she thought of it as karma. The Gods of Old had spoken. One of those descended of their creation had been cast down by a demi-god of another realm. Now Freya was forced to prematurely leave what she had created here. Her time on this mortal plain ended. Those of Northfall had lost their father and so now these children would be made to live without their mother. They would survive. The pack would endure, sure, but it would not be the same without its Queen, just as Northfall was not the same without its King.

Wardruna now takes a heavy breath as she comes to stand along the coastline of the Rimfeather forest. They had slept there that night before and found the forest warmer then that of the rest of the tundra, situated just north of Elysium. Now dawn had come. The island of Storm Reach looming out in the ocean before them. Thick with forest and short, snow capped mountains at one end. But how to get there?? Or should they call from here? Wardruna wasn't all that certain, so decided at first to howl out from her position on the mainland first to see who all might answer.