River whines, waking Clara with a groan. Surprisingly, sleep had whisked her away sooner than anticipated. Rubbing her tired eyes, light gleams through the deep velvet navy curtains. “Sorry River, I will ask him today what we do about shifting.” Stretching her legs over the high posted bed. Her legs dangle over the edge. Grateful for the patterned matching rugs, cold stone and bare feet were not a combination the Suntra wolf would enjoy. Thrusting the curtains back, she squints. The sky an eye burning white. The haze would never lift, the altitude attracted clouds so the home of Teptonia would continually be shrouded. The sun however, seemed an unusual change. High above the walls of the grounds, bodies move in tidy units in the court yards. Groups gathered for training, sparred at the fur
