Cazavien Bevy

Coming back from evening patrol, Aeurna stood quietly at the cave of her den.  She felt the frigid cold air, traveling fast from the North, combing through her gray fur and sending a shiver down her spine.  She knew.  She always knew, even without the omens given by her sly cousin Narjaya; the pack, in its weakened state, could not stay in the mountains during the this winter.  The problem was where to go; it was logical to consider moving south to the prairie or desert areas where the temperature would certainly favour survival, but at the same time she was hesitant.  She knew virtually nothing of the the types of prey as well as other indigenous predators in the area, not to mention that the desert was home of her cousin's family who would almost certainly cause issues.  As a descendent of the old Nordic wolves, Aeurna was much more comfortable moving North; her thick gray pelt and acute hunting senses were perfectly suited for the arctic climate.  Pawing the ground, she hesitated; the rest of the pack, including the more elderly and the young pups, were more susceptible to disease and weakness, being born and bred in the flower beds of the mountain spring.  But a decision could be delayed no further.  Turning her head towards the North star that always beckoned her, Aeurna put her trust in the spirits of her ancestors to guide the way.