Deepwood Weald There's a thousand miles between you and I.

Set on January 8th, tags for reference.

In recent weeks, after the surprise visit from her father whose voice had lured her beyond Moonspear for the first time since her family's arrival, Ciri had begun to feel more like her old self. She made more of an effort in seeking the company of her mother and @Elke, eager to share their time more so than spend hers alone.

Tucked away in a hollow on the mountainside, a call from beyond roused the blackbird from her slumber. She jerked awake, ebony ears sweeping forward as she pointed her snout toward the tunnel that lead to the cave's mouth. Ciri could hear sleet batter against rock, wind howling - sounds of a storm unlike anything she'd ever experienced in her short life.

But what was that other noise, from far off in the distance?

With a quick glance around at her denmates to ensure that they still slept, the young Ostrega gathered carefully to her dark paws and made her way gingerly across the stone to peek outside and investigate.

The cold was biting, and the ferocity of the weather made it feel difficult to breathe. Frozen rain was harsh on her pelt, but on she carried into the endless darkness. Down, down, down, into the flatlands where she followed the call of what she perceived to be another of her kind.

@Mahler, perhaps? Maybe he was in danger, wounded and troubled as he had been on Nova Peak? Trapped somewhere in the snowy whirlwind, on his way to see her again. Yes, that had to be it. Ciri trudged on, determination in the furrow of her brow as she pushed through the storm with juvenile desire to finally be the hero of her own story.

She didn't know where she was, nor how long it took her to get there, but it felt like she wandered forever. Toes nipped with the cold for a time until everything went numb, the very real threat of frostbite or hypothermia unknown to her as she trailed almost mindlessly through the blizzard. Whatever had been calling to her had been long forgotten as she turned her attention toward seeking shelter in the weald, but its trees offered little cover as wind and snow tore through their branches.

Ciri was tired. Eventually, after failing to find refuge from the storm, the young Ostrega crumbled to the ground. She curled close to herself, body trembling with desperation to warm up, and snow was quick to gather atop her - enough to make her disappear.