Silver Moraine the right clothes and the right appearance

They entered the plains a line of hunters, Yuralria cutting a path through the fresh snow as her nose raised to scent the air. Sivaak seemed approving of her decision, though it was difficult to tell exactly what she felt below her stony exterior. At least Sobeille was easier to read.

The girl wished almost forlornly that her friend was closer, that they could track together, but understood that this was the way of the taiga hunters. Was Sivaak a branch of the same tree as Star Eater and Ice Diver belonged to? Their mannerisms bore a frightening similarity and their nomadic nature had her linger on the thought, until a line of distant shadows caught her attention.

A large herd crossed the plains; Yuralria was pleased to see smaller figures dotted among the large. Young males, perhaps, approaching their first year of life just as she. But how to separate them? "There," her muzzle motioned ahead before glancing back at the others, "if we chase them, get them running - maybe one will fall behind?" Her eyes sought approval from the white woman, and then Sobeille.