The vagabond had grown to like the hollow in the first few days of staying there. She knew that there were more things she ought to seek, but the solitude of the territory was calming and had managed to soothe a portion of the wildness in her bones – albeit, only for a moment. Ginsberg had found good food in the dale, granting her temporary hunting grounds and a quiet reprieve from the noise of the outside world. There were not many who made their way through the dip in the mountains. When she was not feeling sociable, she could find hidden places to conceal herself until they departed and she was left alone again.
The wind whisked overhead and toyed with the branches in the trees. The mountains were quiet, even from the sound of birds. Ginsberg moved beneath the looming foliage with a sway of her frame and a watchful glint in the sea green of her gaze. The scent of rabbit had been on the air before the winds had shifted their gale, and the wild wolf was on the hunt to sate the burning in the pit of her stomach.
Were it not for her watchful gaze, Ginsberg would have missed the flash of red that was hidden between the brush. Instead, her eyes locked to the figure of the scarlet stranger with a flashing pique in interest; she had thought at first that it was a behemoth fox. Drawing the scent on the wind, the wild woman noted the cool hints of pack that clung to the stranger's frame. It was not one that she had scented before, but still remained strong against the other's figure. The two-toned feral lifted her head and peered around for signs of others who might have sought to join the red woman on her hunt. When she was satisfied with her searching, Gin returned her attentions to the stranger and began to follow at a distance.
It seemed that the scent of rabbit had – perhaps – lured the other into the hollow, as well. It did not take long for the two wolves to lose sight of their intended target, distracted either by the beauty of the hollow, or the presence of an unknown stranger in the dale. Ginsberg drew closer to the fiery female, and when she found that she had pressed her luck far enough, she exhaled her breath in a low chuff to the other wolf.
The scarlet stranger seemed friendly enough, greeting Ginsberg with a gentle wave of her tail. The darker female regarded the other with a careful expression. She allowed her sea green gaze to roam the figure of Mona with piqued interest. There was a humming in her ears, but other than that there was only silence. Most had offered a verbal greeting of some sort upon crossing paths with the wildling, but this red-painted female was different in this. It seemed that she was testing the waters to see if she was welcome or not. Though she preferred to be alone, Ginsberg did not turn the other away. It was better to start off with friends instead of enemies, she had found.
“You live here?” the shadow inquired with a careful glance toward the emerald gaze of the stranger. The scent of wolf had been relatively strong in that area, so Gin had not been sure if the territory was looking to be claimed or not. Some of the quiet assumptions were correct, though the wildling had no idea that they existed. She was – indeed – a warrior, but she still had years before she would reach the prowess of her father.
The woman responded with a soft voice, offering the name of a place called Bearclaw Valley. Ginsberg’s features should have been evident; she had no idea where that was. Of course, since she had only just arrived in the Teekon Wilds a short time before, she didn’t expect to know any of the nearby names. Out of politeness, the feral girl followed the line of the red woman’s muzzle to the direction of her home. Gin would have no idea just how far away she meant, but she nodded her muzzle downward only once to signal that she understood. Then, she had expected that to be the extent of their conversation. Shortly after, an introduction was offered.
The red wolf had become Mona with but a single phrase. The feral offered a soft smile of understanding and drew her skull upward. “I’m Ginsberg,” she then stated in a steady tone. There was a youthful confidence there, but she carried the weight of months of travel in the jagged lines of her shoulder fur. It was safe to say that Mona should have felt a titch anxious under the watchful gaze of the looming shadow… but she had given Ginsberg no reason to do her harm.
In a single moment, Mona had positioned herself as someone worth being around. It would have been difficult to explain what had shifted in the wildling’s mind - what had caused her to perk and become invested - but it could easily be summarized by the fact that the red woman had found a direct approach to a question. Ginsberg allowed a ghostly little smile to curl the edges of her features and draw her expression upward. The prospect of a hunt sounded perfect. It didn’t bother the shadow that she knew nothing about her hunting companion. Gin was confident enough in herself to be able to maneuver out of any dangerous situation before it was too late.
“Yes, that sounds fine,” she responded with a sweeping gesture of her muzzle. There was a motion, as if she were pointing where she had been trekking before the firebrand had appeared. “I had scented hare, but they may have fled. Maybe we can find something better,” the shadow suggested. Without waiting to see if the other woman would agree or follow, Ginsberg set out through the tangle of landscape and made herself secure within the hollow. If she knew herself, she would know the ease of the hunt.