The lanky she-wolf laid stretched out on the cool sand, her usually sharp gray gaze languid and relaxed as she stared off into the vast expanse of sea ahead of her. The sky was virtually clear of clouds, and the vibrant azure firmament was only interrupted by the sun burning high atop it. It was certainly smaller than how it appeared in the warmer months, and yet the cold air was fairly mild for winter, the occasional frigid breeze gentle and limp in intensity. Spring will be coming soon. She asserted nonchalantly to herself, a tiny, nearly genuine smirk twitching at the edge of her maw. Warm weather really wasn't her preference; her thick, coarse pelt and Northern origins made her much more inclined to enjoying winter. The current climate was nearly ideal for her comfort, if only there was a bit more shade.

If you wanted to be out of the sun, why did you come out here, you dolt? She scoffed indifferently at the thought before lifting her chin up off her paws, the salty tang of the ocean mist settling over her tongue. The persistent rumbling of the crashing ocean waves was a constant cacophony, and the sporadic gull squawked it's clumsy tune in periods as it flew overhead. She laid unmoving in the sand until her russet fur had soaked up enough heat to seem scorching, and she yawned with casual ease as she pushed herself up to her paws, her off white underbelly sprinkled with sand.

The soft ocean breeze moved past her in calm complacency, and she padded forward a few feet before halting once more, her paws sinking slightly into the wet sand beneath her. The water rushed up and back along the shore in a predictable loop, crawling lamely up towards her sand filled paws before receding back into the tumultuous tide. Her wounds from the war barely bothered her anymore save for the occasional pang of discomfort, and her entire body buzzed with an indomitable energy. She took a deep, steadying inhale before padding a few feet into the churning blue, the abruptly icy chill of the water easily sinking through her thick fur. She was only submerged about half way up her legs, though the water rose to her belly whenever the waves came rushing towards the shore. She could feel the strong tug of the current pulling everything back out into the extensive blue, and she sunk her nails into the sand beneath her, a diminutive smile of triumph pulling at her maw. She had nearly drowned at the falls just a year before, and now here she stood, at the edge of the most powerful body of water in existence, undaunted. She felt light, in an unusual sense, an emotion she hadn't felt in quite awhile.

Yuki stood in silent contemplation as the water rushed in and out around her paws, the sun moving in its slow, habitual path westward across the sky. She could see the snow atop many of the nearby cliffs beginning to rapidly recede, and she was somewhat abruptly stricken by how much time had passed. With the onset of the next spring, she would be four years old. Two and a half years would have passed since her sister's demise, since her first declaration of her meticulous goal. Am I even any closer to achieving it? She wasn't quite certain how to answer the inquiry. Her combat prowess had certainly improved since her very first cataclysmically failed skirmish, and she supposed that was significant, but she was still unaware of her target's where abouts, and, when she did face him again... What would happen then? She had told herself constantly that she would slaughter him at any cost, do whatever it took to rid the Earth of the kind of wolves who poisoned her sister's beloved world. She had even been willing to accept death, if that's what was required of her. Now, however, now that she had devoted so much thought to it, she was beginning to acknowledge everything she'd miss, if she was forced to sacrifice her life for this. The beach was incredibly comely, now that she thought about it. So were the falls, and Lavender's Grace, in the fall when the ground was littered with purple and crimson. Though there were plenty of wolves she couldn't care less for, some... Some weren't so bad, she supposed. Not as unbearable as all the mongrels she grew up with. She still kept her distance from many of them; would she regret that, if she died, and hadn't tried to understand the ones who weren't so bad a little better?

She released a short huff as she watched the water crawl back and forth along the shore, her sharp silver gaze narrowed in pensive bewilderment. The season itself was strange and somewhat foreign to her. Wolves flirted with one another, entered each other's dens, had bundles of pups when spring came. She had never understood that kind of love, never felt it for anyone. It was an enigma she had decided for most of her life to blatantly ignore, but she supposed... Sometimes she wondered why her parents had created her, her sister, and the worthless wretch in the first place, what it was for. Why they cared about each other, and Hasoka, why they didn't care about her and Usagi. Why they left the siblings all alone when they were just as much a product of their love as their son.

She was almost startled by the sudden appearance of a familiar scent on the briny ocean breeze, and she turned her snout just in time to meet Malachai's observant blue gaze as he approached, his demeanor notably more lax than usual. A somewhat fond smirk pulled at her maw as he sat down beside her, her usually sly tone carrying an ease and sincerity she typically wouldn't exhibit around anyone else. "Well well well, if it isn't the noble lord of Pyrvanthros, come to pay me a visit." Her casual tone lacked the jagged bite her teasing usually entailed, and she cast her attention back out towards the ocean before offering him a shrug of nonchalance. "You'd know as well as me. Guess I just wanted to look at the ocean again. Maybe I'll feel like taking a dunk later." When she glanced back towards him, she was made somewhat aware of how close they were to each other, and for a moment her flint gray gaze briefly met his deep blue focus. There was something calming about his eyes, something simultaneously familiar and unknown, and she began to think for a moment about how little she really knew about him, how little he knew about her. There was something interesting about the intonation of his voice, and the strength of the frame concealed beneath the thick white of his pelt. Her silent intrigue was accompanied by an odd, almost unwelcome churning in her stomach, a twinge of an emotion whose appearance confounded her. The hell was that...? She blinked for a moment in confusion before shoving the feeling to the back of her mind, disconcerted with the sudden awkwardness that washed through her bones.

Eager to forget the incident, the crass she-wolf pushed herself to her paws before giving each of her limbs a long stretch, the hint of what appeared to be a mischievous grin settling on her maw. "You know how to swim, Sir Delta?" She asked, her disposition casual and relaxed. There was no harm in pulling a little enjoyment from the place.