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@Reina ? (slight warning for swearing)

After bidding goodbye to Kukutux and the others, Ulloriaq went swiftly on her way. Restored and refreshed, there was a spring in her step as she began the gruelling descent up the first of many mountains.

But it was not to last.

She had almost reached the summit when the snow began to fall in thick, icy flakes. She was no stranger to blizzards, but she would freeze up here if she didn't move quickly. She needed shelter - and fast. A mighty gust of wind howled over the peak, tugging on her caribou shawl until the scrap of fur came loose.

"Fuck!" she shrieked, racing to grab it - but it was already lost to the white haze. 

There was no time to mourn, however, and with vision to a minimum she needed to watch her step lest the wind send her tumbling over the edge. The woman braced herself and picked her way carefully down the slope until she stumbled into the mouth of a cave.
A glimpse of a ghostly body appeared above her, slightly shrouded by the oncoming weather, and a shriek of profanity dropped down from the mountain top. Fearing the worst, the red she-wolf had raced to the top, scrambling over loose rocks to get to the disembodied voice in hopes she could use some of her training as a Middleman of her pack. It would surely come in handy should there be any injuries.

Something brown in color had drifted down past her on the wind. It had come from the direction of the scream; she turned around to grab it, just in case it could be of use, or at the very least to return it back to its owner. Clutching it in her jaws, she continued to brave upwards into the flurry, only dropping it to quickly call out for who might be there. She did not hear a response, though, and continue her search. 

A disturbance at the entrance of a nearby cave signaled a possible flee from the coming snowstorm. Grabbing the furs, she trudged past the winds and flurries, ducking into the cave. Her crystalline eyes adjusted to the darkness of the cave housing what looked, and smelled, to be a female wolf that reminisced the snow that began its rage outside. Hopefully this was who she had seen and the owner of the furs in her mouth.

She dropped it, not wanting to have garbled speech as she address the girl. “Hello, I’m sorry to barge in, but I was just down below and heard a shriek, found this fur on the way up…are you well? Do you need any healing? I’m Reina, by the way, of Hearthwood at the base of these mountains.”
Ulloriaq wasn't alone for long.

The noise of pawsteps on rock was barely audible above the whistling of snow and she turned to see a woman cloaked in red enter, clutching something in her mouth. 

"Oh! You found it!" she exclaimed, reaching to gather the sorry patch of hide between her arms. The woman's words fell into background noise as she examined what was left of it, dismayed to see it torn beyond proper use.

Only when she had sighed and placed it back on the ground did she greet the woman properly with a sad smile, trying to piece together what had been said while zoning out. "No, no, I am alright, thank you Reina. Hearthwood - I stayed there last night," her tail waved at the memory. "Your village is beautiful."

Giving her pelt a shake, she looked around at the dimply lit cavern, noting curiously that it seemed to be much deeper than it had appeared on first glance. "I am Ulloriaq. Let's get out of the wind, shall we?"
She sighed in relief. Her fear for the girl dissipated immediately at her admission to know injuries. She straightened a little more, a bit embarrassed that she did not recognize her for someone who had stayed within their borders for a while night! 

“I apologize for not greeting you while you were with us! Had I known we had a visitor, I would have come to welcome you. What brought you to Hearthwood, Ulloriaq?” The female’s name was beautiful, but Reina’s lips had difficulty forming it, so it came out slightly butchered. The red woman blushed, but did not apologize. She was sure it came with the territory of having a unique name.
Her laugh echoed brightly around the cave as she struggled with her name. Making sure to slow down her speech, she spelled out its syllables again for Reina. "It means morning star," she grinned. And suddenly her smile morphed into fat, rolling tears. 

"Sorry, I-I chose it to remember my father," she blurted, voice shaky. Her cheeks burned, raising a paw to quickly dab at them. A lump was forming in her throat; she feared she could not say more on the topic without another round of uninvited tears.

Instead, it was her visit to Hearthwood that she gratefully focused on once a few deep breaths had been taken. "Do not apologise, Kukutux and Reverie took good care of me. I am on my way back to Morningsong but, ah, may have misjudged the weather." The name of the ice-mountain still felt strange and clunky in her mouth but she would become used to it, she was sure.
“Oh!” The Middleman had rushed to the girl’s side, ready to dry the tears that had formed. Her heart broke for Ulloriaq, the pieces falling along with the tears that broke free after the mention of her father, the girl dabbing away at her sadness almost as quickly as they had come. The fiery woman knew of this sadness, the one that sat deep within her heart. She missed her father, her whole family, and she did all she could not to join the girl in her grief.

“It’s alright, I understand. I know loss, like you, and sometimes it must pour from your cup. In the beginning, it seems the cup will never empty, the tears will never cease, but some day the cup will empty of all its sadness; it will then be replaced by the happiness you once knew and the memories you have made in your life, where he will have followed in spirit. He will always be with you.”

She had dropped down to the cave floor and listened to the girl as she spoke again. The storm had raged on outside, and she chuckled. “Yes, the weather is fickle on these mountains. Hopefully, it blows by quickly and you can be on your way again.” She said with a gentle smile.
Ulloriaq shrank instinctually as Reina neared. It was not something personal to the kind-hearted woman, but rather the thought of an embrace from a near-stranger. Not to mention, her fiery pelt reminded her of a familiar, cheery face.

She was, however, surprised to hear such wisdom come from her mouth. Reina could not have been much older than her, and yet she seemed to know exactly how to describe each emotion she had been feeling. Hearing that she shared a similar grief brought more sadness to her heart until, finally, Ulloriaq came to rest beside her.

Gingerly, as if she was afraid she might break, she touched her nose to the red fur of Reina's shoulder. 

"It is strange," she replied. Suddenly, she was a little girl again in the crook of her mother's arm. "When I am alone, all I feel is anger. I say to myself - there must have been something else we could have done. If only I had been there, I could have saved him. I could have said goodbye." The guilt ate at her and only now had she really shared it out loud. "It is when I am with others that I feel most sad. My cup - it pours like rain."

A sigh. The tears had come again, though they felt more cathartic than melancholy. Reina's laugh was acknowledged with a faint smile. As much as she ought leave, suddenly she did not want to. "How long did it take? For your cup to be empty."
Returning the light touch as the girl rested at her side, she contemplated what the other had spoken, from the admission of her what-ifs to the questioning of when her own well of tears had emptied. In truth, it had not, not fully and possibly never will. Not only does she grieve the loss of her family, but also the loss of her youth, her innocence. The latter was too fresh and had refilled the cup to spill in the darkest moments of solitude.

But, she would not reveal that to her sweet companion; her want to heal what was broken too strong to dampen the hope that one day the girl would feel better someday. So, she lied, giving a half-truth that maybe someday would actually come true. 

“I cannot give you a timeline of when your cup may empty. We are all like the snowflakes out there—our lives are all different, our journeys will never mirror another beings’. It took me well over a year to feel whole again. I have Reverie to thank for that—she found me, just over a year since my family left this world.  I found a family down there,” she nodded in the direction of her home, “and they filled my cup. Surround yourself with those who are willing to help make you whole again.”