Vendrussel's list of enemies were slowly growing, and she knew not most of them. There was clashing though, for the friends of her enemies were also her friends — the constant shifting between and the few who wished to settle such differences. Her fur bristled at the thought of all that has happened to this place ; wolves who came and went, others who accused her of what she done, and not without a good reason to it. Her own tears flaking at regret, and the shifting of tides of learning — what was right. She held regrets, but could only move forward, with the continual thought what was best for the ford and it's wolves. She would not look back anymore.
Though if she thought about it — her only enemies were the singular group, and the very few rogues she fought with on the shores. Unknowing the few who were against her actions had fled to the enemy itself ; and the true betrayal that would occur once she found that out. A wonder if she went to Northfall's claim and demanded to be done ; would they accept that, or throw her off the cliff once more? Well, she would.
She crossed to the tundra — a layer of flowers greeting her. A variety of violets sloping around that didn't seem much of the north, but a cold wind passed by. When she looked out she could see the familiar ice and snow in the mix and knew at heart, this was the barrier that brought the tundra, and the mountains together. The smell mixed, she could tell others been around and ignored so ; an official claim was not met.
Vendrussel thrown herself in a pile of these violets, on one of the highest hills she could find. To the sky, she wanted to see, surrounded by a serenity of flowers to cool her mind and soul. She closed her eyes, and inhaled.
Not everyone could be happy, but she would try her best.
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