Silvertip Mountain ichor & frost

thread for @Radar but wanderers welcome!

The number of times she found herself at the base of mountains were few and far between, so when Rhaenys found herself to be directly staring at one, she eagerly closed the distance. Mountains. She didn't necessarily enjoy having the ruthless sharp stones pinching and stabbing at her paws and no, she wasn't any sort of whizz at climbing them but having the advantage of height was always a priority. The weather was odd to her; the snow on the land was not something that was always there. It was soft and bendable unlike the hard and unbreaking snows of the north. If she dug at it, she could even see green. Green. What a weird color.  It was definitely an improvement to the alabaster lands of Rhaesuial - it had always been unbelievably plain.

The snow was a familiarity at least, but everything else that surrounded her was unfamiliar territory. 

- and it made a sense of achievement rush through her body. She had finally fuckin' done it, she had fled from the place her parents ritually attempted to forge her into something she wasn't. Ritualistic dumbasses were quite literally all they were, beliefs in something so much greater than them that there was no wonder why they were all pushed to the brinks of the north. Anyone who encountered them would be encouraged to think oddly or have an extremely open mind. Unfortunately for Rhaenys, daughter of Caradoc and Adara, she was not of that mind state. 

Which was what put her here, at this very moment, attempting to climb up the mountain unsteadily with her northern paws. They were not built for climbing.