Hoshor Plains le quattro stagioni - l'inverno (i)

since bathing at the lake with that compelling young man, @Antigone, she had lingered in the area. it was a place of big skies and wide-open lands, and that intrigued her.

in her youth, she'd been told that the di rossis had once occupied territory such as this, but the fires that so matched their pelts had easily ripped through these lands, gulping up vast swaths of prairie in wrath and hunger. they'd moved to the mountains: cool, sparsely-vegetated. no more would flame devour the ember-wolves.

but—others still called this biome home.

fiamma took days to explore, scenting along the edge of the border, then pulling back to think. a small pack, no more than a handful of adults, and perhaps no children. 

and then she saw them—the bison.

a majestic herd, bunched up together in a snorting, stinking mass of brown, calves and elders and everything in between. the mastery of such creatures was certainly in the paws of a formidable pack, and she began to wonder—was this group of wolves it?

still, she took even more time in mulling over her options. certainly, the world was her oyster, so she ought not to settle for the first place she found. but that didn't mean she could hold out, either.

the air might be hot, but she knew from experience that bitter winter would be close on its heels.

on the fifth day, she stopped short at the border and expressed an intention to meet the alphas of this pack—if not join their ranks entirely. she licked her lips and waited, grey eyes roaming lazily over the territory line in view.

fiamma was a decent hunter and herder, but she wondered what other influence she could wield here in this claim—mighty in size but small in number.

her stomach drew tight with anticipation, pupils dilating slightly.

@Arktos @Nephele (Antigone tag is just for reference in case he would want to follow her after last thread!)

a call rose and arktos answered.

a short howl was sent to inform the stranger on yellowstone's borders that he was on his way.

there was the navigation of the herds, giving them a wide berth just in case they decided to bulk against his presence weaving thru them.

and contending with the small dull ache behind his eye — now behind both eyes — brings with it a reluctance to leave the darker shadows that arktos had clung to.

he finds the stranger staring at the bison with an unmistakable hunger; a gaze he recognizes. you ever hunt 'em before? asks the wrangler upon his approach.