The shell shone luminous upon her altar, her words pleading an easy winter falling from her lips and turning to steam on a chilled breeze. It was times like these where she grew all too aware of her mortality in the world, times where her herbal supply ran thin and her faith even thinner. With a pleading gaze she stared at the shell, willing the acceptance of her offering to bend luck to her favor. It was foolish, she knew. The Goddess cared not for the beauty of shells, nor should she ask for the balance of nature to be affected so. The plants needed to lay fallow to bloom prolifically in the coming warmer seasons. Her stores would be replenished, she simply needed to bide her time.
With a delicate bow of the head, Gwen departed from her deity in favor of gathering what supplies she did have onto her stretch of hide. The piles were pitiful, but she could make them stretch to the end of the bitter season. With resolve she lifted the sides of the hide to form a pouch of sorts, drawing the ends together and fastening them with a stick before hefting it over her shoulder. Clamping the “handle” firmly in her mouth, she made her way from the thicket. It wasn’t an ideal den choice, but it was thick enough to guard her from the elements. Gwen had made do with worse since her grandmother, Clodagh, had passed. She mumbled a soft invocation as she meandered away, the well-wishes for the late wolf’s soul carried on a stiff wind before they could take sound.
Her interest in the college had been piqued since she first heard one of her older patients boasting of a descendant's academic prowess. Though having received informal training, the opportunity to share knowledge with another was a balm to the ache within her heart. She had asked directions before and brought them from her memory, following her well-worn path to a clearing before orienting herself. Hesitant as she had been of the old crone’s instructions, the college had proven easier to find than she had anticipated. A dense grove of thick, never-ending redwoods marked her arrival. Gwen admired the meadows, able to visualize how they would normally appear despite the fine layer of snow that coated everything.
When approaching the college itself, she was delighted to find gardens of herbs littered across the grounds. Moving to the plot closest to her, Gwen bent to inhale the scents of mint and sage. The apothecary within her was overjoyed for such a find; leaving the mainlands was proving to be a better decision every day she spent within the lowlands. Searching for herbs she had grown low on, her violet eyes found themselves resting on the college. She dared, for just a moment, to imagine how her life would have been different had she been given a formal education rather than be hidden away. It’s no use fussing over it, she thought, what’s done is done.
She continued walking, mentally deciding how much she’d need to gather to bulk her supplies and failing to notice the world had come to a sudden stop. At first she’d assumed she ran into a tree, the feeling of warmth and soft fur an afterthought as she was knocked onto her rear. Her bindle flew from her mouth as she gasped in surprise, the contents scattered across the ground. Gwen rubbed her head and looked up, noticing she had not run into anything inanimate, but into another wolf. Eyes widening in concern, she jumped to her feet and peered at the female. “Oh my, I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going! Are you hurt?” Her heart raced as she looked the other female over urgently, sending a silent prayer to the Goddess the stranger was unharmed.