Two Rivers Isle it is worth being cold for that

@Fire

The druid wandered with her head held aloft and her pale ghostly gaze searching for signs of others like her. The spirits had promised her many things and she knew that she had arrived in the correct place, but there was a vast country before her and she did not know how well she would be able to traverse it. How much time did she have, anyway? The burning embers of her own thaumaturgy would continue to rage on within her, and the spirits could be quieted if she was mindful of their needs. Seafret was always devoted to them, after all.
 
She had found herself on the edge of a wild wood and lapping river waters that surely would have led to the sea. The druid drew her head upward and drank in the scents of the forest – where she belonged – and she sighed. It was such a pleasant scent, that of musky oak and thick underbrush. Seafret felt as though she were torn in two directions. One would lead her to the isle that rested in the middle of the river and the other would carry her to the ocean, where she would feel the saline breeze against her skin. The young witch paused and waited to see what would come to persuade her.

She had not yet been to the northern territory that cupped the Plateau and was blissfully ignorant of the argument that would later send her here in tears.  She drew her tongue over her muzzle and cast her eyes to the sky.  It was a beautiful, balmy summer afternoon with a moderate breeze.  The rains seemed to have gone... perhaps it was safe enough to travel now.  

She crossed the river where the water was low, careful to make sure she could touch the bottom.  Once she was on the Isle she shook out her coat and traveled.  The next few hours were spent charting and hunting; she took note of the great abundance of waterfowl and small game.  As she emerged from the other side of the isle she noted a large wooded area as well as a flash of sandstone.

She watched the druid but dared not to cross this river, for it was wider than the other had been.  Hey, she called instead, you alright?

It was then that a streak of flame appeared before her in the form of corporeal lupine. The druid turned her crown sharply in the direction of the unknown female, offering a gentle swaying of her curled tail over her rear. A question was posed, and it seemed to be one of good intention. Seafret drew her ears forward to stand tall on her skull. A smile passed along the dark inky lips of her features; it was knowing and soft, understanding in the most spiritual of ways.
 
“I am,” she answered in a soft tone. “Are you from nearby?” She drew herself somewhat closer to the fire-touched female, hoping that she would not need to call out. It was evident that she was new to the wilds. She did not know her way as well as those who had traversed the land a hundred times or more. Seafret hoped to familiarize herself, but she knew that it would take a great deal of time before she was known to the area.

She looked enough like Niamh in coloration that she could feel her stomach twist into knots.  Her own tail waved amiably behind her, and she met the gentle confidence of the queer looking woman with a nervous quirk of her lip.

I am, she echoed, leaning so she could gesture with her paw, from out that way, on the Plateau.  She scented the stranger the best she could as the breeze blew her direction, and from what she could tell the druid was alone.

I'm Ceara.