Lost Creek Hollow snow pheasant

When she woke that morning, it was to silence.

Hanging in the trees, in the whispers of faint wind. Her breath fogged out her nose and she knew with the certainty of small creatures that winter was here, even if the seasons had not yet changed. She gathered herself, pressing her thin legs beneath her and sighing as the warmth she so coveted sloughed from her shoulders.

The first thing to appear that snowy morning was her nose, followed by the rest of her in a graceful step. Which quickly became her sinking into the fresh powder. The cold was a shock, bringing a sharp squeal from her mouth as she jerked back.

Cold-!

She ducked back into her hidey hole, eyes wide. She was never quite ready for that first shock of freezing cold. She didn’t think she’d ever be.

another woman. silvertongue had not expected it. and she was a fool for that. at once she declared the she-wolf competition, and flitted from shadow to green shadow after the new trail. she should not feel this way, the vixen told herself. and still she burned. suppose crowfeather wanted a wife! silvertongue laughed a little at that; she did not think he moved in that direction. and she certainly did not wish to be married. she fussed with the jealousy as she caught sight of the mussed-looking newcomer. silvertongue stepped from the forestdark, perfectly coiffed and shimmering with confidence. "hola. i do not think we have met."

The voice came as a shock as much as the cold, and Faun rocketed up in surprise, knocking the top of her head against the log’s top. She gave a short hiss of pain, poking her head out after a second with squinted eyes, blinking several times.

Oh, hello. Came the shy reply, the young woman giving a little smile.

My apologies for that. I have been working to gather herbs before the snows fell. Although.. Her eyes turned to her surroundings, then back to the woman, taking her in as she left her shrouded home, barely avoiding stepping straight back in. She was quite pretty, to Faun at least, and quite possibly to everyone else.

She stood up as straight as she dared, even as she shivered in the new cold across her fur.

I am Faun. Again, my many apologies for the rudeness of not introducing myself. Crowfeather recruited me as a healer.

she was younger than silvertongue, a slight to her vanity. but it was all right. she slipped closer. "no need to apologize. i am silvertongue." she had noticed the clumsiness of this ironically named faun. oh! she was being so rude. the sharp little fox smoothed her fur and eyed the other's shiver. "are you cold?" her shoulders rolled. "you should wear something. the snow is coming."

She slipped closer, and Faun eyed her curiously. Smaller and older than she, with discerning blue eyes that made Faun feel like she was being flayed beneath the knife of a surgeon.

Or perhaps the senses of a keen diplomat. Her mother had looked at her with those eyes once. 

Faun blinked, startled out of her reverie, then nodded. 

Somewhat, yes. But I never have been able to grow a thick winter’s coat. Unlike the wolves, she had the oil slick coat of the dog. Her tail brushed her ankles as she gave it a friendly wave from side to side.

Perhaps I shall have to find something. She chimed.

It is good to meet you, Silvertongue.

silvertongue smiled. it lit her eyes in a cool way, jewels of brilliant fire. "it is good to meet you also. sandulf, or sandy, is our resident hunter. ask him to bring you something, si? perhaps you could trade for it." she left any suggestion for the woman to decide and stepped grandly away. "you are a healer. how long have you been at it, faun?" she wondered if crowfeather's joint would give him pain this winter.

Oh, since I was young, as soon as I could put a foot in front of the other.

Silvertongue was quite the conversationalist to quiet, shy Faun. The mention of the man, Sandulf, she quietly filed away to investigate later on.

When I began to walk and speak my first words, my sisters and I were put into a…ah..tournoi? A ceremony. Le tournoi de choix. I chose a flower, so I was to be a healer. An older woman took me beneath her wing, and I carry on her teachings now.

she did not know the words. but they felt foreign, charming. silvertongue resisted that. a ceremony at childhood brought her to mind of what she had undergone in akashingo. "you like it then?" she asked, her voice softer and more contemplative than it had been. "crowfeather will like that about you."

Her voice was soft, contemplative, and Faun tipped her head to the side like a curious bird.

Oh yes, I’ve always enjoyed the healing arts. My sisters became a warrior and a diplomat. I was never inclined to such a thing, I preferred to listen rather than fight or mediate. She gave a helpless little smile.

When I was young, I think I just enjoyed the pretty colors of the flowers.

it was almost laughable to have ever been jealous of this faun. and yet she was gentle, like crowfeather. hesitant like the raven boy was as well. that was something she must keep an eye upon. "i have been trying to learn the names of the plants around here," silvertongue revealed. "will you teach me a few?" her eyes found the other's face.