Again, evening was drawing it’s blazing, darkening cloak across the winter sky. The redwoods were awash in scarlet, as they usually were at this time; and again, Aure had retreated to the towering sequoias.

The brana, silvered as ever, began to make her weary return to retire early from patrols and Hougeda. It was her intention to rise alongside those other nocturnal creatures. The winter solstice had just been yesterday Eve, and she intended to spend tonight scouting the cosmos in full. A faint thrill went through her, anticipation for the stars to burn awake; apphrension from being kept from the trade she so fervently made to improve upon. For a moment, she cast her argent gaze to heavens; and chewed into her cheek that these earthen giants continued to covet the skies from her.

Her paws, lithe and fleeting, ferried her on the memory of the other night and to the redwood she’d since taken to sleeping in. In the setting daylight, it was clearer to her now why the chekra had been so hesitant to share it with her. What seemed like a cavern to her must have looked like some burrow’s entrance to him.

Lingering was a bad idea—as her mind preened at the idea of finding solace in Teekon’s constellations, her fur pointedly decided to shiver out in ruffles.

She didn’t let herself think or flush at those other memories, and quickly ducked inside. Kicking up a makeshift nest of leaves and nettles and loam, the astronomer swiveled several times before melting into a snowball with a soft huff. Finally settled, she gave a gentle sigh, lay down her head, and closed her eyes.

But even then, a pair of silvery-blues that were not her own stared back at her.

La naiba! 

Grimacing to herself, she flung both paws across her snout as a flurry of nerves broke out underfur. She remained like this, discomfited, before she sensed another presence wandering closer and closer. Before even considering who or what it may be, Aure rose to her paws and pushed her way out of her hollow and into the gloam.

Her wondering eyes peered into the deepening light before finding and falling on a dark, plush pelt, such a contrast to her own wraith-white; the girlish, oblivious twinge in her heart that she hesitated against leapt for it. But she stood where she was, rooted by some sensibility she still retained, for she saw too that the eyes scoring about were not duo and gleaming - but glittering orange and searching.

If she’d known how many wolves were reminded of some sort of pale relative in their lives, Aure would have been flattered. But she was not the loner this brana had once known in someone else—she wasn’t as pristine. A single glance at her frenzied scars was enough for most to come to that conclusion.

With a slight dip of her head, Aure adverted her gaze almost apologetically, “Evening...” And for a moment, she did consider saying ‘no’ to the initial question. But, then again...

”I am, actually. Ze earth is too sodden in that hollow,” was her contribution to the search for a place to settle for the night. But her gaze was a tad too squinted; her body angled a bit too stiffly away from it. Chewing on her cheek to keep from letting her mind have a chance to dally, “It’s been pitiful pickings, so far. You either choose ze cliffs or hollows, like these.”

Having led a loner’s life for some time as well, she also felt hesitant; but finally took the first steps towards the darker she-wolf—who was also built with a heft, like many others here. Quite unlike her, and her own ridiculously small, pale stature.

At the mention of star-sleep, she instantly perked, as if merely hearing the word “star” had drawn her out of her huffy reverie. Looking back towards the burly she-wolf, she couldn’t help the faint curling of her lips and the lunar flare in her nearly-colorless gaze. All because of a word and she already felt something like a bond between them—at least, on her end. “I would love to.”

Perhaps it was the fact that she’d been so alone, and was still, in someway, lonely despite all of her wandering; and perhaps it was the half-loner in her that ushered her closer. “Usually, I chart alone. But ze company would be welcome—and having another pair of eyes would be even more so.”

At the inquiry of teaching, Aure tilted her head at the other she-wolf, tongue caught between snubbed teeth  as an expression of incredulity crested within her eyes. The look faded into a sheepish laugh, her gaze timid. ”I-I’m, I, I would be flattered to have a student. Yes, I know ze stars; at least, their uses—how they can guide you.”

Another gentle laugh followed all of this. ”However... I am not familiar with Teekon’s constellations. I don’t even know their names.” Stepping closer despite her humility, she went on, ”Perhaps we could help another, though, until there is time for proper learning of some sort?”

Her gaze full of clarity and earnest, but not unkind. ”Where were you thinking of sleeping tonight?”

Seeing someone be let down, no matter how faintly, because of her didn't settle well in Aure's mind. At the same time, however, the last thing she wanted to do was to be insistent and intrusive. So she listened to what Easy had to say, falling into quiet step with her. Aure's own pelt, though wispy and full of fly-away strands, was nevertheless one that was truly northern; they'd be able to fend off the cold, and it was better together than having spent so much time alone.

As they began to slowly make their way east, biting her lip over her next words, she lent, "Well... I suppose that I could teach you of what I was taught, when I was younger. In my Rhaesuial, I studied how to relate locations to ze stars at different points in ze year, and then some." She let her gaze cast about, languid yet halting. "It's common knowledge, I suppose. It's unfortunate that I do not know ze names of Teekon's constellations, though." Her gaze flitted to the other (at the time) brana, something mischievous in them. "Perhaps... we could make up our own names, for ze time being?"

”I would appreciate tracking, or hunting,” she began, and then sheepishly chuckled, ”Or even all three. Tracking eludes me, and a successful hunt is by pure luck or ze elemental of surprise.” Her tail swayed, refinedly amused at the prospect of a blind father teaching his youngers to chart; but kept the words between a bit lip and tongue. ”I confess, I have been looking at ze stars for most of my life... sometimes I wonder if I should attend to herbs, or histories.”

Ending her soliloquy with a shrug of a narrow shoulder, she nodded at the thanks that was given, but couldn’t help the soft giggle when she heard the brana’s name. ”Blackbear?” Lips pressed, she glanced over at the she-wolf, a bit apologetically, ”Forgive me, it’s only... ze last name I would expect.”

”It is loveable name, of course! I am Aure.” Looking down in a sudden bout of giddiness, she relented, ”When I was little, ze other whelps used to say that my name was ze sound that a seal makes. Like, ahm, a... a bark, I believe?” Obviously, this was in an attempt to turn Blackbear from the hurt the pallid she-wolf’s jesting might’ve caused.