Ravensblood Forest I love you, I hate you, I can't get around you

Tags: @Astara ٩( ᐛ )و 
Time: about 2:00 pm, 1/24/2020 cuz realistically it might take that long for Nyra to get there after being at the Plateu lmao
Specific Place: the large river running through Ravensblood Forest, near Gyrfalcons Keep 

Nyra had travelled further than originally intended. She originally planned to just wander for a bit and go home. 
Yet, here she was. 
The forest was, unbeknownst to her, the first and original territory of the Saints. Something about it felt almost as foreboding as Blackfeather Woods did, but not nearly as mystical. 
Traveling through the trees, there was little snow in this area. The trees were too close together. 
Coming up to the large river, impassible, impossible to lunge or leap over by the looks of it, the Harbinger looked around warily before bending her head to drink from the icy water, keeping her ears perked for any possible pawsteps within the area closest around her. 

Little did she know (but had come to start to expect), she wasn't alone.

the storms of the last week had been relentless, burying any tangible scent of her daughter.

still astara pressed on, relentless in her pursuit. she knew not where avicus had gone -- it was as if she were smoke on the wind -- but true to her mother's heart, astara could not rest until avicus was found.

the roar of a river in the distance brought the blackbird forth; water was often a site of congregation for all life, and astara prowled carefully through the thicket towards it. the rush of water in her ears obscured any note of noise, but along the opposite bank astara saw a figure supping from the icewater below.

she did not immediately recognize it as nyra. the mist of the river, coupled with the distance, obscured most of nyra's features. after all, they were a long way from ursus' doorsteps, and the saints had all but disappeared from ursus' radar.

astara did not move from cover -- instead she opted to watch this thirsty beast, and see where the she-wolf headed once she'd drank her fill.

Roughly a minute after the nightshade got close to the river, Nyra lifted her head with a lick of her lips. Ears perked and alert, the Harbinger got the distinct sense someone was watching her...
Peering through the mist, at first as she searched for her onlooker, she didn't see the pair of hateful, shrewd indigo eyes staring back.
After all, dark figures are invisible in dark places. 
But upon her third or fourth scan of the opposite treeline, (if Astara wasn't prowling closer by now), she saw her. Or, well, as much of her as she could, given the mist. 

At first, Nyra's hackles rose along her spine, along with her tail coming up to stand high like a banner. She started to try and prowl forward with a growl, but the river was a quick, cold reminder of the barrier between them. As her paw met the water, she stiffened a bit at the chill, and pulled back to stand at the edge of the bank, dominant posture unwavering, as cunning indigo inevitability met with hellfire gold.

astara peered at the figure in abstract interest, wondering to what errand the wolf would speed off to once her thirst was satiated.

her covert observance was no longer; the she-wolf thus alerted turned her gaze to astara with sudden shrewdness, lips curled in a toothsome grimace.

oh -- her.

astara broke from the cover in a panther's assured step, keen gaze cutting across the watery chasm. her enemy --saved only by the impetuous torrent between them.

such dominant posturing -- it reminded astara of the way squirrels mocked and scolded a fox that had chased them up a tree. put them on equal ground, and those cheeky creatures were not so brave. run, run little squirrel! run before i grab your tail --

astara ignored the she-wolf's flagrant display of dominance, instead coming coyly to the water. she lowered her muzzle and supped from the icy bank, lapping at gelid water that paled in temperature to her bid of icy vengeance.

soon, you will wish a river divided us.

Though Nyra could not read minds, some part of her assumed what the black belladonna was thinking as she lapped at the water. 

Nyra still stood, unmoving like a giant titan-esque pillar, with her own promise of future-bound violence. 
"You and your clan will all die one day, little songbird." She vowed it with a metal-melting stare, and willed it in her mind and body.
"You should have seen me when I killed a bear. The same ursine creature you all seem to worship. A massive beast, she was, and yet her throat was ripped out by my fangs all the same." 
She said it so coldly, filled with murderous intent. 
Astara wasn't afraid of her, she knew that, and the same was true for Nyra - she did not fear the black songbird. 
She may respect other wolves, but she feared none anymore.
The only wolf she ever truly feared, her father, was dead. 

Or so she thought, at least.

icewater filled astara's mouth. across the river nyra spoke, vowing death.

well duh, the songbird wished to reiterate. all things died. it was the nature of the world. someday, she would be committed dirt-side, and the world would move on without her.

she only hoped she would raise her son and daughter to actualize their potential before that happened.

astara raised her muzzle, water dripping from her rounded cheek.

bold words for one separated by water. bolder words still, to claim oneself responsible for the death of a bear.

idly astara wondered what was done with the corpse. did they eat it? perhaps they saved a claw or tooth -- some small artefact of great power. she believed averna would be interested in such a thing - heartstrings or tooth or bone, it did not matter.

astara turned her back to nyra, flinging snow from under her paws in a final gesture of contempt before she strode away.

At Astara's stare, Nyra held it until the shade turned. At the swipe of snow under paws, she scoffed audibly before turning, mirroring the gesture to a perfect T, and prowling away herself. 

It was time to head back home.