Duck Lake I stand to my feet

At one point, the northerner got herself all turned around. Her attempt to continue West was cut short by a mountain range; even though she was not unaccustomed to navigating peaks, Kovette could not find the energy to do so just yet. Rather, she sought out a way around the mountains, which drove her South—and right towards yet another high-reaching peak. And briefly was she hit with a feeling of dread, as climbing over mountains had never come up in her father’s travel directions, thus the traveller assumed herself to have made a mistake somehow. Had she taken a wrong turn? Or had her father simply forgotten to mention that she would eventually happen upon such treacherous paths in her travels?

Only once she realised that the latter could very well be the truth—Xan had never been very directionally inclined, after all—did she settle.

And once settled, she was able to think straight once more and continued her trek East, leaving the mountains behind her for now.

Kovette knew not for how long she’d been moving, stopping as needed to rest and eat. At one point, she could have sworn she’d picked up on the scents of others, an area that she skirted around so as to avoid confrontation; she was a stranger in these lands, after all, and nearly wholly unaware of what for packs lurked, or how they’d react to her nearness. In the young Apaata’s mind, it seemed best to avoid their homes, and thus she continued through neutral lands, giving any that suggested a group might be near a wide berth.

Eventually, Kovette found herself passing through a treeline that then broke way for a clearing, in which she spotted a lake—a noisy lake, but a lake no less. And as if on cue, she could feel a low rumble in her stomach as she crept closer, eyeing the culprits behind the noise. Ever since her journey started, her primary meals included a combination of small mammals, freshly abandoned carrion, and the occasional fish. Never had she attempted to capture a bird, for their wings were reason enough to believe her attempts would be futile. Despite her previous reasons, however, Kovette was soon lunging towards a mallard that appeared to be sleeping on the lake’s bank, only to be met with a swift beating from his wings and whole mouth full of nothing.

Unfortunately for her, the commotion was enough to startle the lot, with a majority of the birds then taking flight whilst the ones that remained retreated towards the lake’s center, far from her reach. With a heavy sigh, Kovette flopped down at the water’s edge and continued to watch the ducks that remained, hoping that her stillness might make them forget her presence.

Her children grew, and so did Kvarsheim. Eight children strong, each a little different from the next, yet each as much an heir to Stone Circle as the children before. Taktuq still wondered if her mother and aunt would be pleased with where she and Gunnar had steered Kvarsheim - but then, she reminded herself, Kvarsheim was not Easthollow, even if she felt like they shared a heart. She was pleased with how far Kvarsheim had come. Pleased to see life grow within their ranks. Pleased for the peace they had sown into the Valley and maintained with the help of Swiftcurrent and RiverClan. Well... for the most part.

But she felt peace. Peace enough to leave her children under the care of her packmates, and take off for an afternoon on her own. After weeks in the den it felt good to stretch her legs again and see the lay of the land, while running as she had not run for a very long time.

She would have been content to keep pace in the downs between Jade Fern Grove and Fox's Glade, if not for the commotion at the lake. Even if she hadn't been close enough to see the ducks, she could have heard them from half a field away. A flurry of wingbeats and disgruntled quacks.

Curiousity got the better of her.

Taktuq pranced the final lengths to the wetlands, where birds regathered on the cool blue lake. She saw rather quickly what had stirred them up - and immediately, she pressed her ears forward and stopped with a startled flinch. A northerner! So quick to jump to conclusions - but what else could she be, with fur as thick and snowy white as her father's had been? Or as Selamuit's too?

She almost called out to her - almost, if not for the lake and the ducks between them. If this woman was hunting, she would not scatter the birds by shouting - but she would make her presence known, and Taktuq skirted around the shoreline with a welcoming wave of her tail, clipping her way towards the stranger.

:big eyes: I'm so rusty but please take my girl

you and being rusty do not fit in a sentence together! very excited to be threading with you again :D

It was as if the birds were taunting her, those that remained still well within her sight but floating out beyond her reach. Kovette was not incapable of swimming—she was actually a fairly strong swimmer, albeit utterly graceless in the water—but she knew the ducks to be more at home in the lake than herself. There was no doubt in her mind that, should she attempt to swim after them, they would easily leave her behind. And although she had not held out much hope in regards to catching one to begin with, she was still disappointed by the failed hunt—disappointment that she shook off and, in the process, reminded herself that where there is a lake, surely there should also be fish.

Kovette rose to her feet as she cast one last look at the ducks—only to freeze when movement drew her gaze instead towards another wolf. A step back was taken, putting a short distance between herself and the water, as she watched the other approach; she noticed the wave of her tail and relaxed, however, her father’s words of caution far from her mind. Besides, thus far, the inhabitants of these lands had met her with nothing other than kindness—it was for this reason that she continued to remind herself to not be so quick to assume, despite Xan’s warnings.

With her hunger momentarily forgotten, the northerner called out, “Salutitsinik,” tail wagging amicably. It was only after the word had left her mouth that she corrected herself with a quick, “Ah... hello,” instead; she was accustomed to switching back and forth between the two tongues with ease, as her father preferred the common speech whilst her mother was more inclined to use the language of the North. What she found most difficult was remembering that she could not flip-flop in these lands—not if she wanted to be understood and not looked at as if she’d sprouted a whole other head. It was with that reminder fresh in her mind that she asked next, “Are you here for the birds?”

The stranger seemed friendly thus far but Kovette was not so bold on her own, and would opt to move along over competing for a hunting spot, if necessary—especially if the other might not be alone, which she was not yet certain of; the wind was not in her favour and the distance great enough that she was limited on what for scent-formation she could readily acquire.