@Wintersbane
Whether she realized it or not, mountains were in her blood. For years she had traveled and always unintentionally gravitated towards the mountains for safety. Long legs provided her an ample grip on the hard surface and the cold was like a comforting blanket on her back. Stella could never deny the feeling that she longed for when it came to the beauty of being so high up. The Ridge was a unique summit, however. It's body seemed cross between hot and cold. One side reminescent of the cold down below and the other a raging temperature that would not bend nor break to the ill of the bite.
It was in this that comfort could easily be found, for no peak ever seemed the same as the last. With her black and white head held high, shoulders rolled comfortably and she closed her eyes as she felt the strong breeze rush passed her. A gust of all kinds of scents swirled around her and she recognized many wolves had passed through and perhaps made their home nearby but as far as she could tell, this Ridge had not been claimed yet. That knowledge alone made her all the more comfortable standing there among the cordillera, exposed and at peace.
wintersbane deigned to stay close to permafrost hollow and check in on keen as she healed from her injuries. when he wasn't helping the others tend to her he was tightening his patrols of the borders — making them shorter but more frequent. he doesn't know if the man responsible ( the brief familiarity still evades and nags at him ) would linger in the area but wintersbane wasn't taking any chances. when he was doing either of those things he was checking and stocking the caches. he'd begun to dig one for medicines but it was all but bare yet.
he's not sure what draws him to the ridge — an itch to wander, perhaps, while being sure to never linger out of calling distance should he be needed; or perhaps it's because the ridge offers a strategic view of the taiga ( specifically the hollows ) and he likes that he has the ability to view the to-be pack from above. not quite a bird's eye view but definitely close enough.
there's some surprise that causes the tundrian's steps to slow, ears cupping forth and hackles to bristle with uncertainty as his glacial gaze falls upon another nearby. a second look beyond the first glimpse assures him this is not the wolf derg had described to him. not silver and not male. instead, she was slender and willowy even from the distance between them and the tundrian draws nearer with measured caution, letting out a low chuff to formally announce his presence.
@Wintersbane
Where Stella was concerned, peace would always follow. Thanks to the push by her brothers she was off on her own journey and while they had traveled quite far, she couldn't deny the wonder. The two brothers had carried onwards and hadn't stopped to sight see but Stella had never been very good at wandering. She was more interested in staying in one spot and calling one place home. The dark girl wanted to be root herself somewhere permanently and this seemed just the perfect place to wander. These mountains could easily be home to her and she could find great comfort in feeling that connection to home while still being as free as she felt.
Being alone did not come without its trials, however, and as soon as the wind shifted and a scent was carried her eyes opened instantly. Ocean eyes looking to her right side as a male began to wander closer to her, his scent strong and potent while his voice deep as he chuffed towards her in diligent discretion.
Hello there, she purred quietly as she turned her body to face him head on, chest angled right towards him as he ascended the walkway to where she proudly stood. Stella might have asked him if she were intruding upon taken property but she was most certain that she had no smelled any scents as strong as his here.
wintersbane watches as his chuff draws her attention and as the woman turns to face him. there's a subtle lift of his chin as he regards her, ears cupping forth as she greets him in a quiet purr. hello,
he replies back, taking a few steps closer so that he might glimpse upon the hollow and see-able parts of the taiga from the ridge. it was, after all, why he came up here. habitually, the tundrian glimpses over the edge of the ridge to study his pack lands sprawled proudly out before him before his gaze and attention shifts to her in full. besides the strategic value of it, it's a nice view, isn't it?
he inquires in a contemplative hum, he indicates towards the land stretched out before the with a small gesture of his muzzle. there was nothing quite like views like this — where everything looks smaller and one could easily think themselves king of everything the light touches ( or maybe that was his vanity and arrogance coming to play ).
@Wintersbane
There was no doubt that the view from up here was a great distraction and a beautiful getaway. No matter how many years you spend on a Mountain it never seemed to get old. The view was always different and you could always feel like there was more to the world than what you had seen or experienced. For the company that had found it's way to her, she was pleased. Not
only because he was quite handsome but because he had potentially chosen this place to venture to as well. His strides didn't express this ridge as a pass-by to an otherwise sealed destination so she hoped that her assumption of enjoying it's view was correct.
Stella understood the danger of standing close to the edge. It would only take a single push from the dark stranger to send her reeling into the air and downwards, thanks to gravity. He didn't, though. Instead he placed himself somewhat near to her and regarded the landscape in front of them confidently.
Strategic value... his words automatically pinged him as something official. As though he were analyzing its pros and cons for something that was coming or had already.
It's beautiful. The view from a mountain has never left me disappointed. Throughout her family line, she had been told that prior to her own birth home the family had always made it their perogative to live on the mountains. Something about its altitude being in their blood, so to speak. That living somewhere else was taboo to their lifestyle.
I'm Stella. And you are? Because this was probably the best question she could ask for now that wasn't too intrusive.
she concurs with him, mentioning the view's beauty and that mountains have never left her disappointed. he'd never really taken the time to survey the view from moonspear despite the months he'd lived with them as his focus had been on what the ground had to offer him and patrolling the borders, back when he was still working towards his warrior specialty. that was the way it was with him, there was always something else that needed his attention more. his life had been fast-paced since the moment he'd stepped outside the birthing den and it hasn't once slowed down. maybe once he settled for good, he could take the time to enjoy things without it having a purpose beyond simple enjoyment.
i tend to prefer the ground,
he admits with a soft chuckle. but that may just be because it's where the action is.
or so, that was his personal perception of it anyway. she introduces herself as stella a few moments after he gave the stretch of territories below a swift look. wintersbane.
he offers her in return, looking back to her.
There was a subtle hum that pushed past her lips as he expressed his inclination to the ground and action. It was almost too easy to assume that he was not a huge fan of simply taking the time to slow things down. To take a breather, so to speak, as she did every day. That wasn't to say she didn't like action packed moments but she appreciated what nature had to offer her each day. Mountains were an easy way to see most of its wonders all at once. Wintersbane... she trailed off quietly as she pulled her view back to him, you mentioned the mountains giving a strategy view a moment ago. Are you a sentinel or a warrior for a pack somewhere? That was the best guess that she had given his inclination to action, the ground and the strategic value of a mountains' view. Surely she was somewhere around the target guess!
wintersbane regards her question contemplatively. her guesses weren't entirely wrong, per say. a bit of both you could say,
he muses, despite that sentinel and warrior didn't entirely describe all of his duties as sotaherra. and then some.
he adds and indicates to the hollow below where they stood with a gesture of his muzzle. that land there is called permafrost hollow. it's the home of the wolves of the vartija. my wolves.
he doesn't say 'my' with possessiveness but rather a simple if not vague acknowledgement that he's their leader. though i prefer to patrol on the borders it might not be a bad idea to send someone up here periodically to get a bird's eye view.
he's really just musing to himself now, but then, as if remembering he was in the presence of another he swings his head towards her.
if you've been travelling in this area you haven't seen a silver male, have you? he attacked one of my wolves, a young girl. he fled shortly before i got to the scene and she was too injured to abandon to chase after him. he almost killed her. i don't know if he'll come around but i've been keeping my eyes and ears open just in case.
wintersbane knows the description is sorely lacking in any sort of viable details but it's the best he's got and for now, until more information can be gathered, it's what he has to work with. a few more words are exchanged but, as wintersbane suspected, the woman had not seen any silver furred males and the two part ways.