OOc: Takes place several days after the avalanche. Keeping details kind of vague

All this time since the first warming to signal its coming, she had been excited for spring. But as the season was growing out of its infancy, the expecting female was finding that her hopes of a prosperous and possibly joyous time were consistently dashed, in one form or another. She had taken to the season with puppyish youth, looked to it with eyes hazed with mirth… and yet, she felt not the true sense of the season in her heart. Only disappointment, and eventual depression.

This day, she found herself overwhelmed by the heavy feeling and left the borders of the Vale without word. She was certain there would be a single red eye watching her progress from the mountain top, yet even then she did not care, nor did she fear the consequences. She wanted time, peace to herself, wherein she might find the hope if not the motivation to smile once more with ambitions for the future.

She had followed the progress of the creek in a near lethargic state, never minding the borders where the dwellers made their home. The woman would not try for their ear again. Such efforts had proved to be wasted time and time again. Instead, she turned to grounds only ever seen from a distance; the little paradise of beds in which the radiant flowers made their home. The meadow was fragrant, of this she was glad for, and for a moment she allowed herself to wallow in their graces. With eyes closed and body relaxed, she bathed in their aroma til the whole of her was lost within it. Only a single auburn ridge stood visible amidst their colors. Wavering softly in the breeze as it would be with any flower.

Peace came in the rolling breeze among the flowers, tickling the sense of the lounging beast by nose and grace of touch. It was soothing, not unlike what she had once found in the Vale but was now nothing more than a bed frigid rock and ice. Nature had dealt upon them a relentless blow, though it was of a higher design, she could not yet find the positive of it. Many had been lost while only the broken had been found. She could not begin to understand what would bring about this change. What wrong had been down by the earth-dwellers below to bring about the vengeful breath of fate. Or perhaps, it had not been the will of fate at all… and nature was simply a cruel and trifling force that offered peace as well as destruction.

Sighing softly, the female rolled to her side to better allow the sun to warm her cooling fur, but then a stout ear swiveled forward as a soft voice rose above the whispers of the meadow breeze. Youthful in its tone, but not without an understandable air of caution. In turn, the female uttered a throaty grumble having heard. But did not raise her head above her nest of flowers nor did she raise her lids above a heavily shrouded glance.

In few words, she had made her presence clear, yet the inquisitive nature of the girl brought her closer perhaps to assess the origin of this strange creature fixated on her state of repose. Again, the female’s ear bent forward though it was with more opened, attentive eye that she received the younger female. Slowly, she curled herself forward then braced her paws beneath her to shift into a sitting position. Her movements were slow and deliberate, indicative that she carried no ill intention toward the youth… even as her nostrils drank in the musk of the Creek among the fragrance of the spring blooms. Xi’nuata breathed as her curled her tongue over her lips. She sat there for a moment, solitary aside from the pale female under her sights.

“I am,” she answered honestly, openly. Her voice was but a whisper hardly rising over the sigh of the breeze. “If you seek company, it is unlikely your Alpha will be pleased with your present choice.” Again she wet her lips, tasting a bit of pollen on the flat of her tongue. “Where is your company, young one?” Surely the regulations of the Creek were not so lax that they would let and young wolf wander on their own without protection. But then if this were the case, she would not have found herself surprised. The wolves of the Creek were odd, if not disappointing in some manner.

The ignorance of youth was oddly tolerable to witness, more so because there was a time when the warden had been much the same. Unaware of the complicated makings of the world, instructed with only she need know of what to do and whom to follow. She imagined that the youth’s place in the pack was under similar regulations to ensure it would be maintained. And though while she was sympathetic to it, she was not wholly generous as to regard it without difficulty.

The woman simply smiled to the youth though made no move to rise nor intent to harm. “I do enjoy the flowers,” she shared with little hesitation. “And it is doubtful your warning would send me elsewhere.” Truth be told, unless it was the whole of the pack to rain down on her, she was quite confident that her place in the meadow was secure. Regardless of how close to the Creek borders it might have been.

“Does your Alpha not require you to scout further from the borders?” she inquired gently in genuine interest. For one that was inclined to keep to their own lands more, it was odd that she would permit them to venture from their home. Unless what was said had been a means to discourage further opportunities peace.

OOC: Love the metaphor! But it went waaaaay over her head

Intrigue touched her brows, but only by a twitch, as the youth stumbled over herself in explanation. All that she could immediately gather was that the youth had a passion for the flowers… and for some reason she could fight against the Vale wolf if she sat on them? Blatantly, the she-wolf turned her muzzle down to where her plump rump was seated, then raised a questioning brow to the youth.

Follow Fox? An ill-advised step for the young one, in her opinion. The lead was youth and brash; quick to play the part of a lead without knowing truly what the role entailed. It went beyond looking to oneself and comforts. It was an aspect the warden felt the spirited female was sorely lacking. However, she thought better than her share her thoughts with the young girl as she did not wish to disturb her peace with an undoubtedly programmed display of misplaced loyalty and devotion.

“Please…do speak clearly,” she requested instead. “If there are plenty of flowers for all, then what difference does it make if I sit on one? Winter or otherwise?” Her head canted slightly in question. Perhaps they were not talking of flowers any longer?

Perhaps her words had struck something of a chord, for in an instant she was bombarded with a single breath explanation. The woman’s ears jerked back and brows perked at this sudden, yet damning confession. She hadn’t the prior knowledge of knowing how Fox handled those within her pack, but surely she would not approve of blatant disregard, especially if this youth believed she had to follow her lead’s orders. Considering the level of tension between the groups, if such word reached her ears… The warden’s brows lowered as a single ear twitched in thought.

“Such thoughts are wasted on the Creek,” she began softly. Her head shook slightly as a genial smile crept to her lips. “If that is how you feel, are you not permitted to express it? Surely even your leader would listen to a sensible tongue.” Subtly she tipped her head as her tails gently swept at the budding blossoms behind her, fanning the flames of thought in both her and the youth. “Or… do you fear the consequences if you speak your thoughts aloud?” The fact that she had not already been run off by the girl gave rise to the belief that perhaps not all supported the thoughts of their lead, as well as not all those within the Creek supported this senseless isolation in favor of avoidance. If there could be one among then, then perhaps this girl would make two…

The youth female was more than just a little intriguing, near an open book for even the dulled eye to read. Uncertainty was clear, settling upon her brows and in her breath as she sighed. The girl was flustered, if not bothered by their conversation, and was quick to rush to the side of her leader’s words.

“I am afraid there is no distinct line,” the woman uttered quietly and gestured with a flick of her muzzle toward the distant borders. “It was your ilk that decided there would be no line between the borders of the Vale and path of the Creek. We of the Vale simply have more courtesy than to cross without intention, let alone approach it.” In turn, the female sighed. “I cannot speak kindly of one that would seek to avoid their neighbors and live with uncertainty, doubt, when it was her brethren that instilled it within us. And yet ‘we’ are the ones that seek to make this existence livable.” Smoothly her eyes returned to the youth as all manner of warmth and smile receded from her face. In its place was an earnest stare fixed solely upon her guest.

“You must live with this uncertainty. As do the rest of you. If you wish to be a ‘good’ wolf, then accept this complication as it is and make your own decision, regardless of what your leader thinks. Either assume I will bring harm, or trust that I have no intention of causing trouble and simply sit in the flowers and enjoy them as you wanted.”

OOC: Sounds good :D

The contributions to the tension were no longer a concern for her. After her final attempt to find peace and compromise with the Creek leader, all care for the matter had ceased. Individual bridges built with those she knew of her Creek had not wholly been burned, but damaged. And as for new bridges form- the time for that had come and gone. Her relationship with their neighbors were neither hostile nor kindly; simply a reflection of what the situation called for. And she would maintain it as thus. She no longer cared if her own actions further contributed to their fragile pack status, as did the malicious actions of her mate. The woman simply smiled, thought it was an accommodating expression lacking the sincerity of true care.

“I am sure you are right,” she admitted, but would offer nothing more in support of her observation. The less than soft response of the youth suggested that their time of conversing was nearing its end. A new form of tension was growing… and the beige wolf cared little for it. Watching as the young one turned back toward her borders, Xi’nuata lowered herself to her front to resume her basking pose. Her muzzle slipped within the flora as the whole of her became submerged by the fragrance. However an ear did lift to receive the name of the young girl. Bazi. A name she would not forget anytime soon.

“Xi’nuata,” the woman grumbled contently in turn then let herself succumb to the aroma of nature once again.