Bitterroot Valley where the north wind meets the sea

the silver she-wolf steps from between the trees with an easy, steady gait, paws crunching lightly over the frozen riverbank. she had been circling the valley, learning its smells, its turns, its borders. only when she was thoroughly pleased did she allow herself a moment of relaxation.

here, she had planned to stop and lounge for a bit. even in the nippy winter cold, the sun still shone brightly upon the river’s clear edge. but, ravah’s attention is caught by another woman, smelling too of the pack.

a friendly face?

she stops a few paces off, with observing eyes flicking from the girl’s wet paw to the river’s dark surface.

too cold, ravah hums with a gesture of her head to the river’s waters.

ravah steps to the edge herself, leans down, and touches the tip of her nose to the water. she pulls back just as quickly, breath puffing out sharp at the sting.

mm, no swim. ravah laughs lightly, almost melodic, then raises her eyes to look at the other woman. i ravah. you…?