Redhawk Caldera slipping and sliding

Some distance away, a monochrome figure climbed to the top of a particularly tall snowdrift-- at least, it was the tallest Rue had seen in the Caldera so far. It would have made for a good perch for scouting, Rue imagined, if she had still been a scout. As it was, she doubted she could even make it to the top of that hill in her condition. Furthermore, even if she did make it to the top, she certainly wouldn't make it back down. Not without triggering a significant amount of pain, at least. Downhill was much more painful that up, she had discovered, after a few failed attempts to descend the slope of the Caldera. 

Rue imagined that the man was probably a guardian for the Caldera, ready to spring into action the moment a threat announced itself. The silent sentry stood and watched, ever-vigilant, and for a long moment Rue watched him watching over the Caldera. It must have felt nice to have a job. To be helpful. Needed. She heaved a huge sigh, trying to dismiss the jealousy she was nursing toward the unnamed packmate. It would probably help to actually know him as a person, Rue reasoned, rather than allowing her imagination to construct a backstory rooted in her own insecurities. With another sigh, Rue started toward the hill-- slowly, limping, wincing from the pain jolting through her lower spine and hip.