Not alone

"The pulp of an Alpha. I can see that" Snow snarled, but Liandra could feel her friend's approval. "But your body is weak where your spirit is strong, your teeth are short and your enemy is far. You command a pack of one... how many do you think your enemy have?"

He was telling her to give up, the Liandra though. But she wouldn't. She wasn't an innocent, naive princess anymore. She survived all these months with her own efforts, she was brave and cunning. Her ancestors never cowered from their duty, she wasn't going to be the first one! "What if it is a dozen? or a hundred? or a thousand? I will find a way."

The Winter Wolf had always been large, but now he seemed huge. His burly silver furred chest inhaled the power of a tempest, and his howl was a veritable blizzard that covered the ceiling in frost. The demonstration frightened Liandra, but she recognized it also for what it was... respect.

"We rest today. And we go tomorrow. I need to know what is going on with my realm" Liandra felt conviction, and the lupine head acknowledged her command.

Liandra didn't need rest, but she needed the time to get used to her young body. And to make herself clothes. She didn't particularly care how rough her mending looked, she tied the leather tight around her body, at least enough to cover her modesty. She felt anger brewing, and thoughts of **** started forming.

Snow just observed her, attentive and vigilant. She finally asked "what?"

"You remind me of my pack now. My old pack. It is a cold flame that kindle our hearts." The wolf spoke with great weight. But if he was simply forlorn, he inspired something altogether different in the Princess.

"I could use their help" She stood up, and moved to finally try her bow again. But she was too weak to pull the string.

"You aren't Winter Wolf. For them you are only prey. Or competitor" He snorted at the idea, but Liandra wasn't so easily persuaded.

"I earned your respect. Are they any better than Snow, the grizzled veteran of a thousand hunts?" She inhaled, and let her memories of the bow wash her, and her body. She raised her voice in song, and was able to pull the string easily. She was in complete control of the bow, and managed to ease without firing the arrow.

Snow snarled, and said "Dara´s blood. If you truly wish to meet them, survive, and lead them, you will require the curse and the blessing of the goddess of hunt ... Lycanthropy