Otter Creek Why should you believe in magic,

its great!! thank you for starting <3

mile after mile went by. viorel was not fond of the winter most of the time, and this one felt as though it was overstaying its welcome. it was made worse with nowhere to stay, no pack to wait out the snow as they had in years past. the cold was yet more pleasant than the alternative.

they could not have called themselves content, but it was what it was. the day lengthened; by the time they found themselves walking with their flank to the river, full to its banks with splintered ice and fur frozen stiff by the spray, what muted light could break through the clouds was already dimming.

the bark -- the resounding splinter of wood -- echoed like a gunshot. viorel startled, and the snow under their paws snapped and cracked as they swiped their tail over their hind legs and tucked their head in tighter over their throat, but there was nothing in the distance beyond the sharp-edged smear of black, a shape that was instantly familiar.

they had not expected to find another here. they had not, after all, in weeks -- they had avoided the borders they had come across, and world sometimes seemed as though it was nothing but snow and ice. they did not mind the quiet -- only the cold. but viorel turned elbow-deep in the drift, unfolding their muzzle where it pressed against the damp hollow of their chest.

their step was not delicate. certainly not after months of cold and wind. but they were not one for care anyways; they crunched through the ice, clouds of fog misting from their lips, eyes trained towards the smudge of black.

viorel was not expecting much from another lone drifter in the snow. she did not smell like many others, and nobody with a safer place to be would have chosen to spend their time in this.

indeed. as they approached, craning their muzzle upward, they looked her over with a clinician's eye that caught swiftly on the line of her ribs under her skin. they kept the distance courtesy would dictate; it was still close enough to observe her, gaunt and ragged as they were from the cold.

"evening," viorel said, their accent rasping over each syllable. they did not find themselves worried she might react poorly to their presence, now now. "i see you have also been enjoying," their teeth clipped on the word, "the season."