Silver Creek our ghosts will wander all of the water

@Queenie

The middle of winter made Brig slightly less concerned about himself, and slightly more concerned about Adéwalé. It was (or so the jackdaw said) cold enough that, for once, he didn't have to worry about overheating, but the bird just had feathers and since almost every other bird had gone south for the winter, and since they were rarely around where Brig lived to begin with, he couldn't help paying less attention to making sure his paws didn't get frostbite and more attention to the gentle pressure of Adéwalé's talons on his back.

"And you're sure --" he started again.

"How many times have we discussed this," came the response. "Get those paws up."

Brig huffed, but dutifully started walking faster. Melted snow clung to the fur around his pawpads, freezing into ice; he had no doubt there was plenty collecting on his muzzle and whiskers with his breath. The bare-branched trees above rustled in the wind, and the ear on the sightless side of his face swept slowly back and forth to the rush of water. If it had been warmer, it would have been a good time to fish, or swim, but he'd been told you weren't supposed to do that in winter and he didn't relish the concept of Adéwalé's inevitable loud cawing directly in his ear when he tried.

Despite that he couldn't say he wasn't enjoying the walk, even as he kept sniffing for anything that might indicate a wolf nearby or a half-frozen carcass he could turn into his next meal. There was something beautiful about the winter, the white of the snow against brown and silvery tree bark and the pale ice-blue of the sky.

He didn't really know where he was, much less where he was going, but that was fine.

The northern territories were secure enough for Queenie, at least, for the time being. It was their western border that had her most concerned, as it seemed to be the one that had been paid the least amount of attention. With a huff, she roused herself from where she lay in the center of Tindómë's territory and began to trot out toward the creek. 

Things were quiet for a moment or so, but Queenie stood watching, never dropping her guard. It had become increasingly apparent that things changed most abruptly when no one was paying enough attention to see it. Off in the distance skulked another, to whom she gave a neutral chuff of greeting. A few months ago, she might have wandered her way right up to his side to try and spark up a conversation, but the job had made her more wary of travellers.

For a while they followed the creek in silence. It ran quickly enough that the only ice it had gathered stuck close to its banks in spiderwebs of frost; every so often Brig paused to lap at the liquid. Might as well make the most of it while he was here; it was hard to gauge how much snow he could get into his mouth without potentially freezing something vital.

It was during one of these stops that the sweep of his ear finally caught something. He paused mid-drink, lifting his head as water dripped from his chin fur, remaining eye blinking rapidly against the cold air as he tried to figure just who or what had produced the noise. It was far enough away that he couldn't see or smell anything at first, but as he squinted into the sunlight the figure finally became visible; a wolf. patterened nearly perfectly to blend with the snow, blue and black and white.

There seemed, unfortunately, to be no prey on offer, but Brig's left ear still angled forward as he turned his body in the stranger's direction and started padding towards them.

"What are you," Adéwalé asked, and then seemed to notice what exactly they were heading towards. Brig craned his head to look at him; the jackdaw ruffled his feathers, peering in the stranger's direction, and sighed. "Just be careful."

"Of course," Brig said, brightly, and recieved a flat stare for his trouble.

He turned his head back, still sniffing curiously at the air, but there didn't seem to be any pack scent around and he felt mostly comfortable trotting up to her, leaving a couple feet of distance between them, just to be safe. "Hi there," he greeted cheerfully, while Adéwalé watched cautiously from his back.

So, he had a bird? A lot of things had come through these parts — strange wolves with strange stories — but of all the things she'd seen, this one stuck out the most. Queenie allowed a sly smile to creep up onto her maw as she watched the odd pair approach. Better not to judge before you let him tell his story, she thought. After his greeting, Queenie had allowed a thick silence to accumulate between them, but she eventually decided (albeit apprehensively) to break the staleness.

With a deep breath, Queenie called out, Hi, then took a few steps forward to further close the distance. There was still enough room for either to feel safe, but his scent was stronger when they were closer; she'd begun to take an inventory of the wolves she met outside of the territory. You've got a bird. A nice-looking bird, but a bird.

The smile the female offered him as he approached was...kind of odd, but Brig was already on his way and there was nothing yet that suggested he'd become the victim of an unwelcome attack. He could almost feel how tense Adéwalé was, though -- but then he always got like that and Brig had learned to ignore it unless he started making noise.

For a bit she didn't respond to his greeting, just let the silence accumulate, and Brig blinked and stared back, lifting one paw at a time on automatic to keep them from getting too cold. He had after all been walking for most of the day. As it dragged on, though, it did get a little uncomfortable, and right as he was about to open his mouth to say something she finally decided to greet him, taking a few steps closer.

Brig's ears flicked curiously, but there was still enough space that he could make a pretty safe break for it if teeth got involved.

He wagged his tail a fraction when she mentioned the bird perched on his shoulder, head turning to glance up at him; Adéwalé clicked his beak, coal bright eyes still fixed on the stranger. "The bird can hear you." He sounded vaguely irritated, but that was hardly uncommon.

"Yes," Brig said, turning back to the other wolf. "This is Adéwalé. He's a jackdaw. And I'm Brig."

The bird's snarky reply brought a giggle from Queenie as her sly smirk grew to a welcoming grin. I said you were good looking, she called back in mock offense, winking her eye playfully. It wasn't supposed to be this easy for strangers to break her rough casing, but something about these two made it hard for her to maintain. After another bought of hesitation, she thought that she ought to introduce herself. I'm Stephanie.

The name was beginning to grow on her, though she would never admit this out loud. Instead, her excuse for introducing herself via her birth name would be security; it was harder for gangsters to track down a Stephanie than a Queenie St. Clair, famed daughter of Daddy Bruce. At least around here, her fame had seemed to dissipate. You aren't...you're a loner, right?

Brig laughed at her reply; Adéwalé, on the other hand, seemed rather taken aback by it, squinting as he fluffed his feathers again like he wasn't sure how to respond. The wolf offered his bird companion an amused grin, tail still waving against his back legs, and gave a soft huff when he remained silent. "Sorry," he said, lifting his brows. "He's a little shy." 

Adéwalé scoffed, loudly.

Brig wiggled his ears. "Also kind of an ass."

The woman introduced herself, and Brig nodded along with her words. "Nice to meet you," he said with a particularly excited wag of his tail, and shook his head in response to her question. "Yes, we're on our own." He paused, head tilting as he considered, nostrils flaring hard to try and drag in what scent he could with his useless sense of smell. He could smell her, at least -- and other wolves, very faint -- so maybe -- "You aren't?" It was still a question. He couldn't be entirely certain.

Assholes made up most of Queenie's crowd, so she didn't mind Adwa's attitude. Adwa, she thought, That's a lot easier to remember than Adéwalé​. Together, they looked almost intimidating; Queenie thought that she would like to have them around come time for things to get moving. That could be discussed at another time, though; there was a question on the table. No, I'm not. 

Was she supposed to disclose just how close they actually were to Tindómë or was she supposed to wait? For all she knew, this Brig could have been some maniac looking to take her head and then the guts of everyone she'd come with. On the other hand, he could have been an honest guy in need of a place to sleep, and that was something she would be more than happy to offer. I live nearby.

At least he'd guessed one thing right. There was one thing Adéwalé really could not help with when it came to his problems and that was to do with packs -- the bird didn't have much of a sense of smell, even less than Brig's own incredibly impaired one. There was always a risk he was going to wander somewhere he wasn't supposed to be and, as he'd found out, nobody was particularly willing to listen to an excuse along the lines of not noticing scent markers.

But that...meant he was probably trespassing right now, or close to it, to have run into a pack wolf like this.

He shot Adéwalé a slightly concerned look over his shoulder. "Oh," he said -- she didn't seem as aggressive as he would be expecting if he was in someone else's territory but it took all sorts. "Are we on your territory right now? Or --" he turned his head, squinting as if that might help him see any invisible scent marker there. "Which direction is it in?"

In response, Queenie gave a simple shake of her head. They were close, but far enough away for the threat to be miniscule. Despite this, her hackles remained slightly raised and her paws poised for the unexpected. That way, Queenie said with an eastward nod of her head, not far. Soon, they would be moving elsewhere, though the specifics around the whole thing hadn't been revealed to her yet.

When they moved, she would have to start thinking more seriously about branching off come summer, but this wasn't a huge concern for the time being. At least for now, she had a pack to come home to. Brig, he didn't. Why are you alone?

It occured to her then that with Kratha having just been brought back home to Delight, he might not be too happy to find that she'd gone and brought back another loner. Searching for a way to get out of the conversation, Queenie muttered a solid excuse and turned back for Tindómë.