Otter Creek watch them fall

Annaliese may be walking into Death’s arms. After all, the entire reason she joins ranks with Diaspora started due to the lack of food issue. Prey is scarce, and no doubt, the journey will be difficult on her despite her experience. The challenge before her is dangerous, yet exciting.

From the Hollow, she descends from the mountain’s reach, following the narrow creek west. What once was filled with life, with fish and otters now lays barren—abandoned. Her lips curve upwards, shoulders rising at the displacement of trees and rock ahead. The path seems blocked.

Though Julien is the better tracker, she's found herself unable to keep from occasionally trailing the scent of the thief that had invaded their temporary home. The culprit lurks near, scent trails fresh, but she does not have her brother's skill. She always gives up eventually, and returns to her often-fruitless efforts at hunting.
She hasn't given up yet today, though, and finds herself grateful for that fact when she encounters a vaguely-familiar scent — the newest Diasporan. She doesn't hesitate to approach, gaze only briefly drifting over the debris blocking her packmate's path. Annaliese, She greets as she draws closer, wondering if the woman will pause to speak with her or simply continue her journey. It is an important one, no doubt, and Antha does not intend to keep her long. Only long enough to gain an impression of her, perhaps.

Frustrating, yet fitting that already her journey has a literal roadblock. If she cannot overcome this simple wall, then she is no doubt doomed to fail. Success, however, is always Annaliese's only option.

She draws near, lifting up to rest her forearms upon the large trees. Mud is mixed in between. At first she is careful, balancing the majority of her weight on her hindquarters to keep from making a detrimental slip. Yet it is necessary to test its strength, if it is worth attempting to scale the mountain of thrashed debris or turn back, and find another way around.

Just as she pulls away, she hears her name. She lands with a slight bounce, light on her feet and somewhat irritated that she doesn't have her typical weight behind her. Antha, she greets back—having made certain to remember each face of her new pack. Come to rescue me? A tease, for Annaliese is far from a damsel in distress.

A smile tugs at her lips at Annaliese's greeting, and she takes the briefest moment to survey the fallen trees once again before she answers. It truly pains me to deny a damsel in distress, but I'm afraid I don't have any herbs for that, She tells her, equally teasing in her tone. Let me know if you get a splinter, though, and I'll be your knight in shining armor. Or if you fall and split that pretty head of yours, she thinks, a little startled by the darkness of her thoughts. These are dark times, though, she tells herself, if only so she can push the thought aside for the moment. It seems to work, and for good measure she reminds herself that she has seen a skull split, and many other gruesome wounds; surely it shouldn't be a surprise that the life of a medic has twisted her mind in some ways. She keeps her thoughts guarded nonetheless, only allowing Annaliese to see the playful amusement that still lingers at the surface.

Discovering the depths of her packmates is on her to-do list, but alas the task at hand holds priority. So it pleases Annaliese that this chance encounter lay before her, and with such banter to boot!

A brief, sharp laugh escapes her lips, dancing away from the rockslide to Antha who’s managed to capture her attention away. Icy blue eyes hold an ember, sparked alive by the playful tone. Fortunately Antha’s deep, dark secrets are tucked away.

How kind, she amuses, I will keep that in mind, if any splinters attack me in the future. The red woman swishes her tail. I am sure that is not what you’re after though—What can I do for you, dear?