Bearclaw Valley Ships in the night

Honestly, Zenith hadn't even looked that far into the brush, she was far too wrapped up in her own angst.  She assumed someone would have called her out just in general principles if they'd spotted her, so why would she bother looking?  Then suddenly, lo and behold another appeared out of virtually nowhere.

Though vaguely in the same universe as far as coloration went, Zenith was a polar opposite of the one who greeted her in other ways -- Zen was significantly larger, and the first thing that came to mind was wondering if she could somehow lend the other woman some of her pelt, as hadn't she been cold this winter?  They were likely equally weird looking, though -- a Siamese cottonball on popsicle stick legs versus one who looked a bit worse for wear and maybe a little bloated from Zenith's cursory glance.

There was also the fact that Zenith could be a wordy beast, and this was one of those times that she wouldn't have let a word in edgewise until she'd verbally vomited out some of her stress, Oh! Hello! I don't know how I didn't see you there.  Sorry about that.  -- I'm Zenith, I've been looking for my brother -- I don't suppose you've seen him?  He pretty much looks like me, goes by Iovan.  But anyway, if there's room in your pack here I would like to stay a few seasons at least -- I can help with, um, really whatever, just you're near where I last saw him.  And we were supposed to meet, but I haven't found sign of him.  So I hope he's ok...  And stuff.  As she spoke, her once bordering-on-excited form shifted to slowly lower and lower not necessarily out of submission, but due to that ongoing feeling of helplessness that she'd awoken from its den again.  Either way, the end result was much the same: she was nothing, no challenge, just alone and not knowing what else to do.