Moonspear every night falls prey to sunrise

By the time the formidable rise of the mountain met them, the sun struggled to break through heavy clouds. The snow had abated for now, making their journey easier, though the enthusiasm @Hydra carried seemed to pull them along without difficulty. It was a strange thing to be coming back to the higher climes of Moonspear's claim, the sensation unlike anything he had felt before. Dreadful, almost; he had no idea what to anticipate other than the reassurance that he was not rushing into things alone. For once, the uncertainty of the future ahead concerned him.

So instead he distracted himself with her at his side, side-stepping to roughly push her into a drift of snow along the path they had taken. It was his chance then to forge ahead across unmarred grounds with a laugh, almost reminiscent of the last time the snow had been deep enough for them to partake in such a game. Only then he had been soon to leave rather than on his return, and the world had seemed more vivid then that the pallor cast on it now. His quick steps halted ahead of her on the snowy trail soon thereafter, and he turned to face her with a cheeky grin.

They had made it in good time, to her pleasure. She was always eager to be home, and Hydra had placed her claim upon him on their way here. He was now on the pursuit of true happiness (within her mind). Hydra could not know the weight the decision he had made placed upon him. Even if he shared that weight, she would not understand it—she was no empath, and she herself had always felt free and untethered. Her parents allowed her every freedom in the world, and she repaid them fully. 

In any case, she thought of the future without worry or fear. All was well within her own world; she gazed at a peak, and pictured she, Dirge, and her sisters observing the quarry of the herds that often moved through their territory, finding the weak from above—that was when, distracted, Dirge managed to best her, and the whole of Hydra's mass fell easily into a loose snowdrift. 

She erupted from the pale stuff, an explosion of white loosed, and Hydra came for him with a row of dangerous teeth looking every bit the snow monster. There was no true lethality to her movements, but a sharp cunning in her eye: she would get him back, for that.

The snow quaked as she emerged, powder cascading off to its brethren as she snarled after him. Even with a speckled face, he could make out the rows of teeth lunging for him as met them with a flash of his own. All in play of course, as the steady wave of his tail did little to further the display he put on for her. His muscles were tense as she drew near, every intent to hold his ground until the very last moment. His pride swelled in the way his chest puffed, but all was swept away on the gusty rise as he sprang for freedom the moment she drew too near for his tastes.

He had no problem giving her more reason to pursuit him, whether it was in pleasure or aggravation. Though time had passed, his steps seemed sure where they did not sink into the snow and his direction assured he still had the upper hand as he moved for the timberline that clung to the slope. Dirge enjoyed the thrill of leading in that moment, a laugh breaking his venomous, toothy grin as he descended beneath the boughs of proud pines. The rake of needles against his muzzle and hide would not deter him, nor did the myriad of scents to arise.

He needed these distractions.

She did not think he would linger, but she did not alter her path regardless. If this were not a game, she would have altered her trajectory in anticipation of his next movement. As it were, she was content and willing to be a step behind for a time. That did not mean she was not fully invested in getting her revenge—she was very certain that she would. Hydra did not believe he would get comfortable and assume she had slowed down any; he knew her far better than that. 

He seemed to still know the terrain well. But she knew them better, no doubt; it came with living the entirety of her years here. Still, he had just as much experience in this place with the snows as she did. Hydra had experienced her first year as an adult in the snows only a year ago, and he had been here too. And though she knew snow well enough, she was not so well-versed in it as he was. It slowed her down some, where the stuff was not entirely compact thanks to treeboughs unburdening themselves. Not enough, though, for him to make an entirely clean get away. Hydra maneuvered to get in front of him, rounding a tree and leaping for a coniferous limb—

Kamikaze. But if it worked, it was for the greater good; snow poured over her eyes, not permitted her to witness her success (or her failure).

She had fallen behind, sufficient enough that he dared to give pause. A foolish tactic here, a great risk, but the copse of trees would provide him with more time to better assess the situation as it unfolded. His tongue lolled as he drew in the cold air, ears turning this way and that as he allowed his gaze to scan the surest way he anticipated her coming... or so he thought. Seconds ticked by unnoticed as he became aware she was no longer in pursuit of him, and his senses went into overdrive pondering where it was she had disappeared to.

Of course the moment he found out, it was on the cusp of it being a moment too late. He heard the snow shift, the branches moved, and beyond them came a black mass as quick as lightning from them. Surprise was there only to cross his features for a moment as he backpedaled through the loose litter of earth and frost, but she had him swiftly in her grasp with no room for doubt. Thus began the chorus best described as a dissolution of snarls and whines—he would put up a playful fight, but intended to hold her and bring him down with him if at all possible.

The sounds either party emitted were ones of violence, but wolf kin would know it for what it was: play. Any other beast might hear a truly fearsome scuffle. In any event, such sounds were muffled in moments as the latest snowdrift swallowed them whole, but before that could occur in totality she was snared by him. Down she went, unable to backpedal or withdraw, laughing as her forelegs wrapped around him to twist so that he would receive the brunt of it—a bad move indeed, as the weight of him and snow both would press against her should she succeed.

True to her nature, she was an efficient fighter. His own skill paled in comparison but he felt he still put up a good show on the spot, letting glancing blows land where it was deemed best for him to get his own shot in. Her ability was also a swift reminder that she had strength behind all her feminine wiles; he felt his own center of gravity go shifting wildly as she twisted, the take down move more than enough to drop him through the snow beyond where the branches tended the earth.

Winded, he did not yet relent on the grasp of his own lock on her, nor did he struggle against her own. A stalemate then, but not one of great displeasure. Amusement rumbled in his throat as he wriggled briefly, as though he could make the ground beneath him more comfortable. It was not the most ideal of situations to be caught in, no, but he could make do with it. ”You seem rather pleased with yourself,” he managed out as composure came back, only then considering loosening his hold of her.