Miriam wondered back, soft paws walking quietly into the forests, her silver eyes watching around the snow to catch a familiar view. She wondered what had happened to him, the behemoth she had saw long ago. He was grand, a beauty beyond her own, and the day he was slain was a day to mourn. For wished for it naught to come, he deserved more then a simple meal. Though fate be damned, as destiny comes for all eventually, to even the Goddess set her ways to him. 

However what had been seen was not that of a grand Elk, but a sullen figure, blackened with reds, a bird in the winter. Not the one she had yearned to see, but perhaps what Miriam's fate desired to. A coincidence not, for all is lain to be. She approached the figure, who seemed shrouded in a blue haze, indisturbed by all, a picture on the wall.

"Are.. you alright, miss?" The Maiden couldn't help but speak up from behind, to what looked of blues that should be of feiry reds. Soft and small, she asked of concern to the stranger she saw before her.

Miriam flinched at the sudden aggression, taken back from not only the source of aggression against her own leg, a self-harm, but at the snap she gave toward the lilac maiden. A flicker of emotions, but as strangers she wouldn't know the turmoils the one before her faced. A whirlwind of emotions continued and she looked upon her with starry, and warm eyes- but tinted with fear. 

She still remained concerned onto this birdened lady, as her voice was coarse from previous sobbings, but angered by her intrusion, and even more so against the pain, "It's alright." Miriam refrained from the intro- forgoing usual formalities and simply nodded to the blue-plagued one, "but..." she started with a hesitation, and repeated the question, "are you alright?"

"No," Miriam replied with honesty, "I asked.. If you wished for help." She thought some preferred the comfort of a strangers ears, for there would be no one to tell, to know what truly inspired. A listener of a moving picture, and that is all Miriam could be to the red and black stranger; who did not wish for such words to be bestowed.

"I will not force it upon you." Since she didn't want to, the lilac wisp wouldn't press further, and only dipped her head in understanding. She wished to help, but couldn't help if force was given. There would be no point to pressure the words out, and only could come out willingly. Perhaps, she desired to take her mind off of it. Miriam wouldn't mind help grant that, either.

"I am not," silver eyes grazed toward the ground, "I am from no pack." There was a slight familiar scent, that whiffed to her nose.. Smelled similar to a wolf she met in the same woods. 

"If you still desire to, it's alright." She oh-so desired to help the saddened blue bird, but a shame to say the chance wouldn't be given. A final word if the other so wished for it to happen, otherwise the spiritual wolf would stop, as she knew the Goddess would be displeased if she pressured too hard, and make the other uncomfortable.

"I am Miriam, Miriam Iris Willows, it is nice to meet you." Her head bowed low as she properly introduced herself to Towhee. It was a question that seemed to speak to her a lot; especially to those who were already from a pack within the wilds. However it always remained the same, "I wish to see the world."

Miriam realized she had took it too far, feeling a bit on edge, "I apologize," was an immediate responds. Pressuring was indeed not the best, but she was selfish, and desperate to try and appease the thought to be of help.. "to help, mind.. or body." However there was still a need, and she believed her Goddess would want to try.

Especially as the one not only was in a dissaray, but fell with it to her body. While no master, the star-eyed wisp knew a few remedies to help the pain- and even with winter afoot, Miriam knew the ones that did not need for flowers as the recipe. Her own soft, and lilac paws lifted upwards to point at Towhee's, inciting she could help with the pained area. Her Amma, taught her well enough.

Though there was another thought that came to be, as the more they spoke, the more she smelled and familiarized with the scent, "Are.. you of Firebirds?" The Maiden met a boy, long ago by the their name, and she carried a familiar scent that he brought along. Maybe she knew of @Bronco.

"If you have a medic," she wished to part this before the other is leaving, "request the root of a golden rod." The pratice was to chew the leaves of the plant. and to soothe aching joints. Though she found it would be the same if one felt light pain on a sore wound. Hopefully by chewing the root instead of the leaf, it would provide a bit of relief. Winter is indeed hard for medics.

"Then I wish you well, Towhee of Firebirds." The other was reluctant to stay, and she did not wish to keep it like a prisoner to a dull converse. So Miriam dipped her head, saying a farewell.