Stavanger Bay evening bay

soft snow billowed in the moonlight.

whisked to and fro in the wind, dotting the sky in a way that suggested there were more stars than there really were. it suggested to her, that despite the creeping weeks through this season, they were not free just yet. no sign of spring existed here.

no sounds of crying cubs, no fresh growth pushing through snow, no long sunny days that promised to melt everything away.

she sighed, heavily, lifting herself into a stand. short stocky limbs carried her along the edges of the bay.

it was not often she roamed at night, but tonight promised no sleep to the weary midwife. perhaps a slow patrol might reveal something worth more than sleep.

The hour was late, but there was too much occupying the mind that refused to allow slumber.

Who knows, perhaps a short walk would lead Cyrena along the path to encounter one she desired. Tove was held close in mind, as she had been mentioned specifically by Kjalarr, but any other would do just as well.

A light tread, careful paws taking the lead. Oft, a soft stare would find itself upon the cloudy sky, mesmerized by the haze. To see the stars offered much awe, but such was all too common. Why not see something different for a change? The pale puffs hid part of the world. Was there a reason? There had to be...

Such a question would be pondered, attention partially taken from the direction her body was being carried.

she was not alone, it seemed. the soft shift of icy sand under paws ticked at her senses.

lilac eyes turned to a pale woman. one who fit in just as much as herself or as kjalarr.

she did not know her, nor her name. but the scent she carried told her that she belonged. no need to chase her off with huffs and puffs.

i am tove, she offered with the air of expecting a name back.

To think ...

Was it at all possible that mere thoughts could be turned to reality? Had these thoughts been a prayer answered by an unknown deity?

As it was soon known, a woman named Tove stood before her. A beautiful woman, at that. 

Cyrena was gracious and gentle in posture, looking forward with a thoughtful glance. A search was no longer needed. 

Sister Tove. The pale one greeted, nodding her snout slowly. 

Calling a female of close relation, regardless of blood origin, was common for those of her homeland. No matter what womb you come from, men and women who walked alongside you in the game for survival were family. Once one battle has been fought, you are forever bound together. 

I am Cyrena. She then added quickly in a short phrase, realizing she had postponed the offering of her own name. Kjalarr has told me of you. The woman continued, providing the knowledge that this was not the first Tove's name has been mentioned to the snowy audit. You are healer, correct? This is what the Bay's founder had informed her, but Cyrena wanted to hear it from the individual in question. It was her tale to tell and decide whether she desired to elaborate or not.

sorry this is so tiny :x

Sister Tove,

Her brow lifted slightly with tinted curiosity. What an...odd thing to say. Tove would not shy away from the unusual woman though.

I am, yes. She offered with a polite, thin smile. A midwife, specifically. What say you?