Whitefish River as the crow flies
122 Posts
Ooc — Talamasca
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#1
All Welcome 
All along the coast there was cold, and there was wet. It came sweeping over the river-top or, as the days progressed, fell as shards of ice in sleeting rain. When the cold grew stronger this transitioned to snow and was much easier for her to traverse.
Something about those tiny flecks of ice pelting down or being blown back across her face was too aggressive; she had ducked beneath the sting of it, and was glad when the fluffy motes of snow replaced them. A cold snap was on its way and soon it would be too cold even for snow, and by then Wilwarin hoped to have found herself a safe place.
She felt a nagging feeling in her belly that something was soon to change within herself, and she did not like how deeply unnerving the sentiment resonated.
75 Posts
Ooc — Jess
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#2
The river was where Thyra often went to scout for signs of prey- as they would come to the riverbank in search of open water for a drink, and left behind hoofprints and footprints that could easily be identified. She chortled when she saw the messy tracks of a porcupine- too low to the ground to leave only pawprints behind, and could see the sweeping markings from its low, bristly tail as well. She found a dropped quill, and sniffed it gingerly. It wouldn't be terribly useful, but it could be dangerous. The next time she came to scout, snow might cover it- and she might step right down onto it. 

So, thoughtfully, she picked it up and carried it along with her, the tip of it poking out through her lips. She was careful to avoid tonguing it, knowing that it would just as easily embed itself in the tender pink flesh, though she was tempted to play with it. She rolled it from one side of her mouth to the other, using her lips, keeping it still between the ridges of her teeth. 

Once she found an open patch of water that she could reach without worrying about the ice underfoot giving away beneath her, she opened her mouth, and allowed it to fall in. 

Satisfied, she waved her tail and turned to prance along the riverbanks, halting when she saw a figure in the distance.
Old Norse | Common Tongue