Whitebark Stream look, this comes as no surprise.

a new scent broke over the wilds, leaving sobeille on edge.

she knew it from the year before; the changing of bodies and the hormonal signaling of receptivity that, as far as she understood, came to all women.

when would it be sivaak's turn? or hers? she wondered if sivaak would make the men run as chani would, or fight as sobeille intended; what gauntlet must a man crawl through to prove his worth?

sobeille nosed a pawprint left neatly in the snow. around its edges lingered the singeing scent of estrus; it crisply stung her muzzle, and caused her pulse to quicken.

vaguey about this

The season had grown colder, bleaker. While Yura was no stranger to snow, she had yet to experience her first winter and was almost oblivious to the changes that came with it. Almost.

It was the scent that clung to many here that bothered her most. It was sweet and musky and unmistakeably repulsive. At first the stargirl had guessed it arose from the caribou but, as the set of very wolf-like pawprints she followed revealed, Yuralria had an inkling that her theory was flawed. 

Her lip curled in thought, gaze seeking the owner of the trail when her eyes landed on a ruddy wolf in the distance. Swiftly, she approached the stranger only to feel her stomach sink as the pawprints carried on into the snow. This wolf carried no trace of it, but Yuralria could not shake the question from her head. "Are they sick?"

lifting her muzzle to the fraying winter air, sobeille’s gaze fell on a fast approaching silhouette.

at first, she thought of the mild-mannered lotus; this one carried a similar schematic to her pelt. as she drew close, sobeille noted the distinctive features that put this sylph in a class all her own.

she studied the rose-gold of the yearling’s gaze; this was a new color for sobeille, and once again she was intrigued by the thousand colors — and emotions — eyes seemed capable of conveying.

glancing back to the trailing footsteps in the snow, sobeille waved her tail neutrally. in a way. seeing the youth in yura’s unblemished features pained sobeille, for it made her think of her young siblings. dey ‘ave deir season upon dem. dey will go an’ find a man, and make babies. and den the scent becomes somet’ing else.

There was no hostility to the stranger's stance, only an unreadable fire in her sunshine eyes that Yuralria couldn't help but feel unsettled by. Nevertheless, her neutrality drew the young girl in and soon she too was examining the tracks with a subtle twitch of her nose. 

The scent indicated the start of a season, the wolf explained in a lilting tone, and Yura's ears flicked as she attempted to understand what Sobeille was conveying. Was this how she had been made? She tried to imagine her mother and father together, but found no logical way the puzzle pieces fit. "How?"

She hardly allowed the other to reply when another thought crossed her mind. "I mean, does it have to be a man? What if you wanted to make babies with her?" Her gaze followed the trail until it disappeared, wondering if the stranger was tracking the mysterious snowwoman for the same reason.

sobeille stepped back, allowing space as yura’s muzzle worked in a subtle twitch over the lingering prints.

it be part of your body. sobeille knew enough of them to understand in women, the organ nestled just under the darkly gurgling intestines was the life giver; rich and sour at once, thick mucosa over a wall of resilient flesh made to expand to house whatever grew within it.

a shadow of a smile. you can be layin’ wit’ whatever you want. but if it be puppies you be wantin’, de man is necessary. a lilting descent in her tone conveyed she wished this was not so. you know, i know some kind of animals do not be needin’ de men. but for wolves, it is de way.

another smile flickered past, lingering in the sharp cut of her eye. once you be gettin’ wat you need from dem, dispose of dem ‘ow you see fit.

only sobeille did not expand on what methods of disposal were fitting for her tastes.

At the stranger's words, Yuralria's face morphed into a puzzled expression though her attention remained fixed on the distant horizon. There was a part of her body built for joining with a man to create life. If she had one, then Vairë did too - and Valiant had the counterpart. 

This new sliver of information had her mind swirling to places she did not even know she was capable of imagining with her limited knowledge of anatomy, and she gave her pelt a quick shake to ward off the rising heat to her cheeks. It all began to make sense now. Gods, she really should have paid more attention at women's circles. "My anaa says I'm s'posed to marry a man someday," tail curling in interest at the girl's comments. Only now did she begin to understand what that meant.

As had countless moonwolves before, Yuralria knew in the back of her mind it would be her duty to bear his children. Perhaps that too kept her from returning home just yet. But Sobeille offered her an escape, head swivelling in time to catch her sharp-edged grin. "There's wolves that live like that?" Yuralria couldn't ever imagine her mother disposing of her father, but then again, she never did learn what had happened to her previous husband.

anaa. the familiar term had sobeille's ears straighten, her cool golden gaze passing over yura's countenance with renewed vigor.

you be moonwolf den. sobeille surmised, rising from inspection of the powdery snow. deep draughts of the icy winter air between them, and she detected no trace of moonwoman on the young girl's pelt.

lowering herself to study the full breadth of the pawprint, sobeille surmised it belonged to a heavier built wolf; many moons their senior from the swirling eddy of odor still left along the snow.

wolves be livin' all kinds of ways. i t'ought dey be tellin' you dat in mooncamp. some wolves only take wives. o'ters 'ave no use for dem.

de seawolves -- we do not be takin' 'usbands at all. what would young yura make of that?

The stranger - or perhaps not-so-stranger's connection to her family was a curious thing. While moonwoman's reach should have filled the young wolf with pride, instead she felt only a sharp pang of guilt as she nodded in response. Vairë needed her and here she was discussing lovers with a seawolf.

Mooncamp. Sobeille must have meant the woman's circles. "I dunno," she admitted with a vague shrug, "never really listened close at those kindsa meetings." Nor had she ever given much thought to a wolf's preference before. Raised by a matchmaking grandmother and surrounded by more conventional women, Yura had not felt the need to question the status quo.

Until now.

This wolf desired a different type of companionship, if her tone had been anything to go by, and the stargirl was delicately intrigued by her way of life. "Are you lookin' for a wife?" she shot the other a curious smile.

a few times now sobeille had attended the moonwolves' camp. she had stayed with sialuk a month in her first year; learned of their tradition from kukutux -- and had even absorbed some of their custom in her own small ways.

she had been hungry to learn; it surprised her to see a girl born of such rich tradition would not cherish it. often, sobeille longed for the unknowable history of her family's origins: nearly all of them dead now, and no women's circle in which to weave rich stories and pass on vibrant oral traditions.

what dry remark she might impress upon the girl was lost as she asked a question sobeille had never been confronted with before. and though the short-lived smile on her lips twinkled still in her eyes, there was a meanness there sobeille could not hide.

someday. i be looking to make my legacy first - and you only get dat from children. it was not that she wished the male appendage for such things - it was that she wished to be without all of it. why? you be lookin' for a wife? not enough women for you back 'ome?

"You don't smell like the season though," Sobeille desired children before a wife, but Yuralria could scent none of the sweetness that clung to the pawprints on the other's pelt. Nor could she detect much of anything beyond a rich musk. The stargirl concluded that there was something she was missing - what that was, though, was hard to tell.

The wolf asked the same of her and Yura let the question hang in the frigid winter air between them. Ajei came to mind, as did the children of Sialuk, and she felt her nose crinkle in response. "No," came her flat reply, unphased by the fierce look that overcame Sobeille. "I mean - we're all kinda related, y'know? But if the right girl came along, maybe." Her breath plumed white as she sighed deeply, knowing that despite her curiosity she must also take a husband if she were to return. "Legacy means a lot to me too."

It wasn't for lack of interest, but more a privileged ignorance and duty to her mother that kept her from fully engaging with her family's traditions. She thought back to the hunt last season, the smorgasbord of young wolves at the healer's camp that Yuralria had been too busy with mundane tasks to really meet and felt a twinge of regret. Along with something else entirely. A flicker of recognition passed over the girl's face - she had seen this wolf before. "You came to the gathering last year, right?" In passing flashes of a ruddy pelt - even the same lilting tone as the healer man from the sea. What was his name again?