"Time would tell," they used to say to her when she, so eager to please and hungry for every ounce of knowledge they had to give, was merely beginning. Rheia had never held an aptitude for patience despite all that they may claim of her but she tried her best, she faked it well. This was different. The mantra played within her head so often when she'd left them and it had been so sweet-tasting to say it aloud! O chrónos tha deíxei, she said as she picked her way through the foreign hollow - but the bitter taste of her guilt had long since cleansed her palate. They had been right to try and dissuade young Rheia from this heinous pursuit she had fixated upon. This need to find her roots, to see the ocean, to be a part of something new - she had been a part of something and it had been great, it had been home. With a sigh she tried to push that emptiness out but she knew, come nightfall and the arrival of the mother, she would merely continue to mourn her poor decision.

This place was not so bad. There were mountains (none as great as her mountain, she'd find herself thinking), there were forests (none as beautiful as the atrium of Labrynth in the summer) and there was always something new to see, smell, or taste. Rheia was blessed with life at a time when things were starting to decay and she knew this, and in keeping with her faith she thanked her mother every night. But she seemed so distant now, like the rest of her family.

Rheia ducked through the ferns and brushed through them, feeling their curled fronds pull at her fur in a way the mosses of home never did. The taste of pollen wasn't there - but the winter was coming, so that made sense. She longed to see the maze in the snow one last time - and was caught off-guard when a voice splintered her thoughts. She paused and raised her head, catching sight of a brackish stranger among the verdant plant life.

The sisters had once tried to teach her more than the ancient tongue and she had been on her way to succeed with it, this new language that was so unlike the comfortable greek that everyone coveted. Rheia had learned the basics and so, when the stranger greeted her with a cautious tone she wasn't afraid. Hallo, she parroted dumbly followed by the lick of her lips, and the slip of her ears like butterfly wings askew. Rheia did not know what to do next. Her voyage thus far had been a lonely venture and without her sisters to guide her, she was like a vessel lost at sea.

It took a couple minutes of study before Rheia realized who this was and upon realizing it was a sister, she relaxed considerably. Maybe not a true sister who had met the mother sea or perhaps spoken to mother moon, but a woman nonetheless - and Rheia at once could feel more comfortable. The name that was offered sounded too short and foreign to be likened to her own people, but that was alright, Rheia's name was short too if she thought about it. She wondered if Sif had a meaning the way her name had a meaning, but cut her mental diatribe short when asked for an introduction.

Rheia, she said plainly but proudly, because it wasn't often she'd have to introduce herself to anyone. The sisters knew one another without words and their community had been so small, so protected, that at times names seemed superfluous. The girl felt invigorated having spoken her own name - and her tail was a slow pendulum behind her. She decided to be bold and close the gap between them some distance, although she did not wish to crowd the woman too much - and then asked, Is... Is Sif.. home? This, home? The words were choppy and nothing impressive; Rheia had long ago decided she disliked the language of the outside world but it seemed fitting here, the most likely way to communicate.

It was a little bit aggravating to feel like such a failure, to work her way this far from the mountain, and then upon finding another living soul fail to adequately communicate - but there was no remedy for that except time and a little bit of patience. If she could communicate with this girl (and this was indeed home of some kind) then Rheia's hope of surviving the winter would come to fruition. From there, perhaps her luck would change... Perhaps she would find her grandmother after all.

There was no hiding the vaguely crestfallen expression that danced briefly across her features but, with the girl's admission came the truth and a word that sounded almost like, Mountain? Yes, she knew this much. It was pertinent that Rheia learn at least a little, and the way that particular word flowed across her tongue was not as bad as others.

The smallest of gestures brought Rheia's attention to the darkness on the horizon and she felt a pang of regret when she spied the far-off edge of a range. The girl took a moment to center herself and not let herself grow too emotional with these thoughts of her sisters, although it seemed as if Sif was determined to undermine this. Her query was met with a quick look, then Rheia diverted her eyes to the ground and she mumbled pathetically, N-no... um, Rheia of -- mountain, but no.. 

With a flick of her eyes and a few sweeping gestures she looked around but it was harder to tell where she'd come from; there was no way to indicate where her mountain was. It didn't matter now anyways. She fixed her attention back on Sif with a sad little smile, determined to stay composed, and tried to ask: Rheia... and Sif? Home -- mountain? P-please. The girl didn't mind that they'd just met - she held a kinship with all women, trusted in them and loved them equally, and this one was just as kind as the next from Rheia's limited experience.

The struggle abated as understanding flooded Sif's face. Rheia welcomed the display of encouragement and managed to stay relaxed. Rheia reminded herself that this would be a temporary solution to a grand problem, that she wasn't giving up on her people or choosing to stay away from them forever. One day soon she'd find her grandmother - but for now she had to concern herself with surviving, and this was the method for doing that.

Please, she repeated again with a nod and after, a brisk wag of her tail. Home was not the word she would use for a while yet; thinking of it in either languge brought forth too many memories, too many thoughts, and the immense weight of her guilt for all that had happened.

That was -- that was easier than she anticipated. Then came the test that she had expected and, knowing at least what the word hunt meant, she nodded acquiescence. Unlike the sisters by the sea that Rheia had heard only the vaguest of stories about, those of her mountain home did not rely solely upon the men to do their deeds for them. In fact it had been difficult to find those of the male pursuasion for Labrynth and that meant the women were skilled in many things; thus the thought of a hunt in this foreign land was not as overwhelming as it could've been. Rheia would follow after Sif and give her the lead position (mostly because this too was untested territory, but also because she missed having a tutor nearby at all times), and wait for her to make the first moves.