A thick blanket of white snow covered the plateau like a layer of creamy frosting topping a cake. After squeezing out of the hollow tree she now called home, Pied stood looking at the view, admiring the purity of the sparkling snow and the sense of quietude that enveloped the surrounding woods. Eventually, she began to walk, her light weight allowing her to skim across the surface of the snow without sinking in too deeply. She left behind her a perfect line of paw prints.
She kept moving until she warmed up good and proper, then stopped at a small stream, broke through the ice and took a drink. She grimaced lightly when the cold water hit her stomach like a punch in the gut, then moved along the frozen stream bed to the pack's nearest cache. Pied helped herself to a leg of rabbit, which she ate quickly without even sitting down.
When she finished her breakfast, the Delta lifted her head and pricked her ears. The snow on the ground absorbed a lot of sounds, yet she could hear birds chirping nearby and even the distant sound of footfalls crunching through the snow. Her gray ears flicked and she wondered if she was hearing a wolf or maybe a deer passing through the wood. She stood a moment longer, still listening, then decided to investigate.
As she padded through the frosted forest, she didn't feel perturbed by the otherwise undisturbed silence. The reformed pack was still young and small, yet she was constantly reassured by the strong scents of her pack mates, particularly those of Hawkeye and Leto. This was not the ghost town that Blackfoot Forest had become. Pied would not be alone, nor hungry. The pack would survive the winter, a thought which brought a small smile to her lips as she walked.
It did not feel like home here, though the scents of the wolves she was bonded to through blood oath were strong. She had been happy in the forest—well, as happy as the moody yearling could be—and Zombie had left it with a sour taste in her mouth. They had spent some time making their way through the mountains that seemed to divide their private little valley from the rest of the world, cold and hungry and tired as they followed the movements of the thinning herds. Their journey had led them here.
She supposed it was prime territory to claim. The plateau had its own small forest, and its back was protected by mountainous walls. Its front sloped sharply downwards like a miniature, rocky cliff. It would be easy to defend, if it ever came to that, and had plenty of space for both their numbers and any herds that might choose to (stupidly) graze in the area. It did not feel like home, but they had only recently arrived. She supposed the feeling would come with time.
Listlessly, Zombie moved through the pack's land, femur grasped loosely in her jaws as always. It was the only thing in her life that did not change. Sometimes, as crazy as it sounded, the thin yearling believed it was her only friend. She didn't really know the rest of her pack mates, and while she did tend to linger in the shadowy fringe of pack life they all seemed content to let her stay there.
Somewhere along the way, one of her paws met with something hard. She paused in her movements, only to suddenly realize her mouth was watering around the femur and there was the unmistakable stench of carrion in the air. Electric eyes going wide, the yearling set her prized femur down and set a protective paw over it before thrusting her snout into the open (and mostly picked clean) ribcage of a blacktail deer.
As the forest fell completely silent again, Pied's thoughts turned to Kisu. The same snowfall that made the plateau look so lovely might be hampering his travels. She frowned at the thought, though her lips twitched slightly upward again in the next moment. You're anxious to see him again, she mentally accused herself. She didn't deny it. The idea of a possible romance made her belly tie itself into excited knots. Friendship could lead to courtship, which could lead to mate-ship, which could lead to pups...
The sound of a bone cracking snapped Pied out of her thoughts and she straightened her neck to peer ahead through the trees. Following eyes, ears and nose, she finally discovered the source of the noise: Zombie stood over the carcass of a deer, digging into its remains. Although she'd just eaten breakfast, Pied's mouth watered at the sight of so much meat and she immediately shouldered in beside Zombie, helping herself to the carcass without fully pushing the subordinate female off to the side. There was plenty of meat for both of them.
She ate her fill in less than two minutes, then backpedaled away from the carcass and licked blood from her pale muzzle. She almost asked Zombie if she'd felled it herself, yet simple deductive logic told the real story: her pack mate had found the deer already dead. Pied wonder why it had died, yet didn't bother herself much with the details. The meat was still relatively fresh and, even after they were done with it, there would be plenty left to cache.
Zombie hadn't meant to start eating the remains of the carcass, but rather explore them in an attempt to better understand death. She knew little of the shamans that had been part of Bon Dye, only truly seeing them once. They had been like ephemeral ghosts, haunting the forest for mere moments before evaporating into daylight. She had stumbled across one of their lairs, some weeks after they and Jinx had gone. What she found fascinated her; the innards of some ungulate, and collections of herbs, stones, and bones. The organs puzzled her the most. How could they have resisted eating such a delicacy?
The ruined deer in the snow before her had been the perfect opportunity to practice what she imagined the white ghosts of the fallen Bon Dye might have done. Her teeth were placed delicately around a smooth and spongey organ that tasted deeply of blood and iron, with the intention of pulling it free and saving it for... well, Zombie didn't truly know. But as soon as she had tasted it, instinct took over and she began to eat without discrimination.
It was after Zombie had chewed and swallowed several mouthfuls that Pied appeared at her side—so focused on the meal, the yearling hadn't heard or scented her approach. She growled softly out of instinct as the more dominant female shouldered beside her, though it was not aggressive and died as soon as it became clear that Pied would not separate her from the carcass. Zombie finished only moments before her pack mate, and put a few steps between herself and the carcass before sitting and licking her chops clean.
"Hi, Pied," she offered in greeting.
Only after they were both full did the two pack mates properly acknowledge each other on more than a feral level. "Hey," Pied replied to Zombie's greeting, still licking her lips. "Good find," she observed, gesturing toward the half-eaten deer. "We can cache this for the pack. I know of a stockpile close by."
Pied glanced sideways when she saw Mag swoop down and land on the blood-spattered snow near the carcass. The bird hopped a few times, then stood next to the deer's head, her head tilting as she looked into one of its dead eyes. Pied watched curiously, yet when the magpie stayed deathly still for a few beats, she remembered to return her attention to Zombie.
"How've you been, Zombie?" she asked, stepping around the carcass and seating herself on slim white haunches, her muzzle pointing toward her companion.
Zombie shrugged at her pack mate's praise, though it was of the "Aw, shucks," variety than her typically apathetic interactions with Pied. "We can definitely use the extra this winter," she agreed. Although the yearling didn't quite like the bloated feeling she always got after eating, she was notably more pleasant—even if her demeanor remained a bit flatter than most other wolves. She remained in silence as Pied (who was normally talkative, by Zombie's standards) seemed to stare off into space for several heartbeats, not seeming to notice that anything was particularly unusual.
When the white female spoke again, moving to sit in a more conversational position, Zombie sighed wistfully, "I miss the forest. It doesn't feel the same here..." In fact, it seemed happier here. She missed the shadows, the eerie calls of foxes, the mist that clung to the conifers. Had they been closer, Zombie might have confided this in Pied—but it was likely to raise more questions, and tarnish Zombie's already unfriendly aura. She hadn't been exactly pleased to leave the land Bon Dye had claimed, so perhaps the simple admission she did give wouldn't be taken too negatively.
"How about you?" she queried back politely, wondering what her pack mates kept themselves occupied with.
Zombie answered in a way Pied didn't expect, though as she mulled over her pack mate's response, she didn't find it particularly surprising. "What about it do you miss?" she prodded gently, hoping Zombie might open up and share. "I miss it too, though I like it here. I was never a fan of all those screaming foxes," she joked even as she silently recollected the time she and Zombie had chased after the same fox, only to thwart one another.
"I'm happy that we've seemingly settled. Those weeks of uncertainty as Bon Dye failed... they were awful. We have plenty of food here," she said, gesturing at the carcass. Mag was still hopping around its felled head. "And I feel like we're more loyal than the average pack, considering what we've all been through together. You know?"
Mag suddenly took wing, circling upward in the sky until she became nothing but an opaque speck. Pied watched her, though she made sure not to let her eyes linger too long, lest Zombie wonder why she was staring up at nothing. I must look like such a weirdo sometimes, she mused to herself, chuffing quietly.
"Wanna start dragging this thing to the stockpile?" she suggested after a beat, motioning toward the deer's remains.
It had been a long time since they had chased the same fox together and wound up meal-less, and Zombie winced slightly as Pied's mention of the creatures awoke the memory. She hadn't been exactly nice when the white female had confused things enough to allow the fox its escape, and she wondered if the mottled female was still determined to soothe a perceived grudge. "I'm kind of glad we didn't end up eating one," she admitted, looking sidelong at Pied. "I'm not sure it really would have tasted all that good. Like, stringy kinda."
As to Pied's next comment, Zombie couldn't really argue it at the moment. The wolves that had come together after Bon Dye's fall had remained so, even in this place. "I wanted us to stay together," she agreed, "but I still wish we were in the forest. I just... liked it there." It was the first place she felt she could call home and settled in, and for most of her life she had done nothing but migrate from place to place. "I hope we stay like this," Zombie finally told her pack mate. "At least we're still all together."
Pied went quiet, again, then and looked to the sky for a few heartbeats before making a small noise. If the thin yearling found anything strange about it, she made no comment. Zombie knew she had her own quirks, and if Pied seemed distracted on occasion... it was harmless. If Zombie knew the reasons for Pied's occasional blips of daydreaming, she would probably have been fascinated—and attach herself as tightly to Pied as she would have to the shamans, in an attempt to learn their ways.
"Let's go," she answered Pied's next words, already moving towards the carcass. Zombie wasn't sure where they would take it, but was confident that the mottled female would lead the way.
"We'll stay here," Pied said with conviction, wanting to reassure her pack mate, especially after Zombie sort of cleared the air regarding their long-ago tensions. "You'll learn to like the plateau just as much as the forest, I think," she added optimistically. "You have many of the same features—a bit of forest, for instance—with added bonuses. You didn't have these kinds of views back there, that's for sure," Pied said, her eyes drifting around to indicate the none-too-distant vistas at the plateau's borders.
The two she-wolves positioned themselves over the carcass, with Pied hovering over one of the deer's haunches. She exchanged a glance with Zombie, then arched her head and clipped the cold meat with her teeth, then began to drag. Since much of it was eaten, it was not too heavy and began to move as she tugged. Backpedaling, Pied began to pull it in the direction of the stockpile, dragging the half-eaten carcass for a good quarter of a mile before she released her grip and motioned for Zombie to join her for a quick break.
"Do you still follow the religious beliefs of Bon Dye?" she asked as they stood there, stretching their muscles and catching their wind.
Zombie didn't really know what to say in response to Pied's assurances, because as much as she wanted to believe that they were true, in her heart she simply felt that they were wrong. She hadn't wanted to leave the forest, or vote Hawkeye into leadership. Not that she thought anyone else would have been better—Leto had turned out to be a total flake, after all—but she found the dark woman to be a little strange and even annoying. Truthfully, Zombie found most of her pack mates a little insufferable... but that was mainly because she wasn't exactly emotionally mature, nor could she really understand how they could all be so happy all the time.
So, after a moment of awkward silence, Zombie simply nodded politely.
The yearling positioned herself on the opposite haunch, directly next to the one Pied had taken hold of. Being smaller, somewhat malnourished, and definitely weaker than her pack mate, Zombie struggled to keep up even when exerting all her effort. When Pied motioned for a break, the yearling silently thanked her—Zombie's sides were heaving just a little too quickly for her to really say anything.
After stretching and allowing herself a few minutes to calm her lungs, Zombie shook her head. When she spoke, her cadence was interrupted on occasion by uneven breaths, "N—no. I was... I wasn't there long enough wh... while Jinx and, and the... others were. I wan—wanted to learn," she shrugged. "They all left al—almost as... as soon as I t—took the... oath."
One of her ears flicked with the rhythm of Zombie's erratic breathing, the other twitching to match the cadence of her voice as she answered Pied's question. The mottled yearling bobbed her head and gave Zombie a look as if to say, Same. She didn't pursue the topic any further, nor press the conversation at all, for that matter. Instead, she let her pack mate catch her breath.
When Zombie seemed ready to continue, Pied ducked her head and latched onto the meat again. Although the muscles in her neck, shoulders and upper back protested, she tugged until the carcass began to drag again. She didn't even look up to see what Zombie was doing, just waved her tail in relief when she felt some of the pressure ease off her own body. In tandem, they finished towing the dead deer to the stockpile.
If she hadn't been so worn out, Pied might have suggested they butcher the meat, tearing it into chunks that were easier to stash. Yet her energy was sapped and she knew Zombie must feel the same, maybe even worse. Instead, she made an effort to nudge the corpse up against the cache—which was just a hollow stump partially filled with cold, spoiling meat—and then stepped back, breathing heavily.
"I think that's good enough," she said to her companion, though she chewed on her lower lip, clearly dissatisfied with something. "Here..." she murmured to no one, scraping together a few leaves and kicking them over the body. They did little to hide the body, though, so she let out a sharp breath, squatted and marked the spot with her urine. The pungent scent would warn smaller carnivores away.
Slumping down suddenly on the nearest patch of clear grass, Pied sighed. She rolled onto her side and looked up at Zombie, her tail thumping once on the ground. "You know what they say..." she said as she stretched out her hind legs. "The pack that naps together, stays together. Take a load off. We earned it." And without another word, her chin dropped to her white forepaws and, in seconds, she was snoring softly.