It wasn't often she made the trip up to the top of the Vale's highest peak. Only when she wished to speak to her mother did she dare make the trek, her journey taking the better part of the afternoon given the slow, craggy ascent and winding paths. Olive was buried here, somewhere deep beneath the layers of snow. She had the best view of the Vale this way.

Aurelia sat near her grave, the marker now only barely visible. There was no grave for Tiberius; no body had ever been found, a thought she had grappled with for years after his disappearance wondering if he might still show up again one day, whole and unharmed. She looked up at the sky and its thousands of glittering stars that twinkled overhead and wondered if there was an afterlife, and if Olive ever left it occasionally to see how her children were doing - sometimes she thought she could catch traces of her scent.

The little wolf looked out beyond the horizon where a line of clouds had only just begun to roll in. It was spring now, but there was always the chance of an odd snow-shower even leading into the summer months this far north. She closed her eyes and foolishly tried to feel her mother's presence.

I'm not sure if you got to see it, or if anyone has come up to tell you, she said quietly to the air. I think we all saved the world, somehow. Never thought I would see the stars again - or anything else, for that matter.

A cold wind ruffled her fur by way of response.

... I miss you. We've done so much and come so far, but... I wish you could be here to see it.

Aurelia blinked back an irritating wetness threatening her eyes. She'd gotten so emotional in the past year; what was wrong with her? It was as if she couldn't even control herself anymore.

She sighed and looked back out toward the distant storm, hoping it would hold off just a little longer.

It had long been an unspoken oath of hers that she would smite any well-meaning suitor of her siblings who failed to meet her (very) high standards. They had no idea. They didn't need to know. If Nottin had said the wrong thing or had not exuded the sincerity she expected of a worthy partner to her sister, she would have driven him off the edge of the mountain with her own fangs and told the pack she simply saw him slip.

But he was - begrudgingly - perfect in every way. Nottin was not only strong, but dependable and steadfast, and utterly devoted to Dalmatia in ways that far exceeded her wildest hopes.

She smiled.

If you ask me, I think you are her world, she said. And that is enough.

His words on the matter of love did little to sway her opinion that he and Dalmatia made it all look effortless, at least from the outside. She did not say so to his face, but let it rest.

Until he startled her so much she almost choked on air.

Your sister and - I?! she sputtered, exhibiting a rare display of a total loss of composure. Her normally stoic expression, so careful and so benign, was now a strained, bug-eyed disaster of panic mixed with sheer terror.

WhatofyoursisterandI? The words all tumbled together as they fell out. By repeating the question, she subconsciously tried to buy herself more time to both a) understand what the question meant and b) how to answer it.

Well, she knew what the question meant. But she couldn't believe he'd just asked.

Your sister... is... Aurelia forced herself to breathe out slowly. Calm. Peace. Control. ... An incredible wolf. I consider myself lucky - blessed, even, and I do not say that word often - to have her in my life, and a part of this pack.

Careful. Measured.

She casually looked back out toward the stars with the chiseled visage of contentment and screamed internally.