Free. She was free...at long last, she had escaped the clutches of those wretched bastards. The unforgiving land would take them now. It would show them just how cruel of a world they all lived in. The plague, the many enemies, the harsh land...life was never fair, and no one is exempt from that fact.

The she-wolf meandered about through their territory, their home. She was home. It had been so long since she could look upon this place again. Yet, it wasn't the same place she grew up in. It had changed. The land had begun to take it back after the downfall of her people. She is one of the few lucky ones to see it again, but at what cost? A part of her considered herself fortunate, but the loudest part of her wishes she succumbed alongside her allies. Instead, she had fled, like a damn coward. She could have fought those greedy bastards until the last of her blood was spilt, but no. She ran.

Her paws brought her to the grave Rainer and Crocuta had built, and stopped. The scarred female sat, curling her tail close to her body as her gaze rested on the makeshift grave. Who was it, she wondered. Who's bones laid in their final resting place? Someone she knew? Someone she cared about, talked to, fought beside? Most likely.

Free. They were free...at long last, they had escaped the clutches of this unforgiving life. The living remain shackled in chains, always fighting, always trying to find a way to make it to the next day.

No one is free.

In her silent reverie, she could hear everything that passed by; the swirling breeze, the songs of the birds flitting about...

...the footfalls of one approaching closer.

The she-wolf did not stir. She did not care. She let them come, knowing full well interaction was inevitable at this point. Somehow, she had attracted the attention of a passerby. Her eyes closed, a small huff of air being let out. Of course her silent mourning would be interrupted. Whoever was behind her had better make it quick. Her mind lay elsewhere in this moment, and wasn't in the mood to exchange friendly conversation.

That was before she heard the footsteps start toward her again, and the scent of their owner wafted up to her nostrils. Her demeanor suddenly changed, and at his touch, the tension in her muscles went lax. Her sea-foam green eyes opened again to look into ones of glistening gold. Rainer was someone she trusted whole-heartedly, an ally who's goal was to seek redemption for their people, to start anew. She respected him for that.

"Yseult."

"Minister Rainer," she responded with a warm tone to her voice, of which not many had the privilege of being graced with. She gave a single, slow nod as his name rolled off her tongue.

"They vould not vish you to starve. Eat vith me?

Turning her head back to the grave, she gazed upon it with half-lidded eyes. He was right, of course. What good was she doing for the pack in this state? There was work to be done, and none of it would get accomplished with her moping about. Strength is a necessity as well for all the labor intensive work they would be doing. She must be strong, in every way.

A sigh was issued before turning back to him, then, "You are right. I am not doing anyone, alive or gone, any good in this manner." The scarred female rose to her feet, and gave him another respectful nod of the head, though her eyes remained friendly. "Thank you, Minister Rainer. I would be honored to accompany you." He may be of higher status than she, but she still saw both of them on the same plane, as equals, as allies, working toward the same goal; to preserve their bloodline, and bring back what once was theirs.