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Deep in the night, the wind started blowing fierce and cold. And in a heartbeat, fear took hold in all the mortal wolves' hearts. This place is locked in ice, like the Winter Snow, forever. It is always night time here, and there is always a fierce snow storm blowing through. The Spirits' Cave is always warm and soft, even after the millions of years ago when it was formed.
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You're walking through the birch-tree forest on a crisp fall day when you see them. A pair of rare white arctic wolves, nestled together amidst the thick brush, silently watching you with curious eyes that welcome you to their secret sanctuary.
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*She pads in, laying down quietly, in the distance, through the snow she can faintly see the rock face that is the spirts cave. She sighs deeply, curling into a tight ball, tail to nose. Everything is hurting, everyone is hurting, this whole place is full of pain and sorrow, and there's nothing she can do about it.
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