23th Sun's Dusk… 1200…

The grasses whipped past her in a blur. The sun felt good on her as the cold wind rippled by. Her paws spread each time they briefly touched the ground. She could feel every pebble and every blade of grass between her pads. She loved it.

Snow peppered the wind with the smells of the city she encroached on. It had been ages since she had visited Whiterun, so long in fact it looked different even in the distance. So many smells mingled on the wind as they ran, she had almost forgotten about the wolves of Jorrvaskr.

Almost.

Her pack mates trailed as a group. The winds blew through her fur as she put on burst of speed. She howled at the sun, temporarily hidden behind the clouds, her pack answering in harmony.

Our voices will announce us to the wolves of Jorrvaskr… she hoped.

She leapt over the small creek, letting her hind legs splash in the icy water. The chilled rush made her feel alive as the air burned her lungs. Her blood lust was taming, it had been over an hour since they had devoured the highwaymen. Soon they'd have to walk, but it didn't matter. She could already see Dragonsreach.

Her body slowed, betrayed by the lack of mortal blood to sustain it.

She could smell the wolves of Jorrvaskr the second they had run past Rorikstead. The wind had also carried a scent she didn't like, but that no longer mattered. Her vision began to change, the curse of weak-blood. That would soon end if she had her way about it. The werewolf slowed to a walk, her pack following her lead.

The woman's body finally began the shift. Her wolf skin yielded to her mortal form as bones broke, realigning themselves.

"Rowan?"

She flipped her white hair over her shoulder and turned to her pack mate as he watched.

"Their scent is overwhelming…"

Rowan patted his naked chest. "We'll be fine. Azriel sent for us and she's their Harbinger. I doubt she'd do so just to kill us off, Arden."

The young Breton backed down, lowering his gaze submissively to his Alpha. "Yes, Rowan."

Rowan smiled at her pack as they began to dress. Most of the twelve were young in the blood. Out of her original pack, only four remained. All four had been with her since the Great War and in the Legion with her. But, time had little effect on them with the blessing of Hircine. Rowan pulled her fur armor on and fastened the buckles in place, lost in her thoughts.

She wondered how the Legion planned to win a victory in Skyrim. She tucked a lock of hair behind her pointed ear and laced up her boots. She had fought in the War under General Jonna in Hammerfell as a Battlemage under her command. That was a long time ago…

Rowan stood and stretched, appraising her pack.

"Let's keep moving. I'm thirsty and cranky."

Rowan looked at the older Breton woman.

"Please tell me you're not still angry about that bear, Marella…"

The brunette turned on her pack mate. "That was my kill, Dorian. And you stole it."

Rowan rolled her eyes and looked back towards Whiterun.

"Do you think she's there?"

Rowan looked over her shoulder at her companion. "No, Weldon. I don't think so, at least not yet."

She started walking and Weldon kept pace with her. "Then why are we here?"

"Because she said it was urgent…"

"Or maybe because you want to try for a relationship with her?" Weldon prodded and received a chilling look from her.

"That was years ago…" She didn't really know why she was trying to justify it to him. He already knew the answer. "…and that isn't really her thing."

"It's been almost four years, Rowan. People change…"

Rowan sighed. "You've heard all the same stories I have. If she isn't already married, I'd actually be surprised."

His laughter rubbed her the wrong way.

"What so damned funny?" Rowan growled at him.

Weldon rubbed his ribs. "Three and a half years ago, you were swearing up and down she was 'the one'. Then you ditched her…"

"And you know exactly why I left." Rowan kept her sights on Whiterun, hoping the conversation would be over soon.

Weldon glanced at her as they walked. Her rushed pace always surprised the Redguard. The shorter Elf was trying to ignore him and he placed his hand on her shoulder. "We've been best friends for thirty years, Rowan. You're not fooling me. You haven't been the same since you walked out on her. I think you still feel guilty about it."

Rowan balled her fists, considering a multitude of ideas on how to kill him. Each more entertaining than the last and she took silence solace in each thought.

"Well? Are you going to answer me or…"

"Or what?" She rounded on him. The pack fell silent behind her and she glared at them. She shifted glared to Weldon and kept walking, following the wall.

"Or are you going to keep acting like a bitch?"

Rowan growled at him. She looked over her shoulder and saw the rest were still far enough back to answer him. And maybe finally shut him up... "She was too young, too hung up in being Dragonborn."

It was Weldon's turn to roll his eyes. "Caught up in being Dragonborn? That's a little harsh, don't you think? She was fifteen and had the world throw at her to protect…"

Rowan paused to look at the Sentries at the outer gates. "I offered her an out."

"Oh, is that what you call it? You can't have expected her to go with you. It was her responsibility to fight the World Eater."

Rowan watched the others expectantly. "She made it a priority over me."

Weldon shook his head sadly. "I really don't believe you sometimes." He watched her intently, but she was still ignoring him. He sighed. "You'd have done the same damned thing. But, it still doesn't explain why we're here."

Rowan glared at him. "What do you want to hear? That you're right…?"

Weldon smirked. "Well… Go on. Tell me I'm wrong."

"You know damn well how guilty I feel. I've never seen a creature so alone until I met her."

Weldon studied her pale eyes. Her hurt and her anger washed back and forth in her mind, visible through her eyes. "Then you left her alone. So now you're here to make it up to Azriel… or to yourself?"

She looked at him as the others approached. "A bit of both, maybe. I just know she asked me to come, so I did."

"What do you expect from her?"

"I don't know, Weldon. But, I can't imagine she'd ever let me back into her life like that. And to be honest, I'd be happy with keeping our friendship. I think we're both past what happened in Winterhold. Now, let's meet with this Jarl..."