Morningside Cuesta unbound

Everything was silver-- cold. The earth's perimeter blurred into the whiteness of the horizon. Siofra sat within the dip of the Cuesta, silent among the shadows. The ledges and ridges sprawled in many, and her stillness rendered her apart of the terrain. A treacherous location. Yet, for a woman born among the cliffside, the daunting depths felt akin to home. 
Her ears planed, listening. Against the whirling of breezes, a voice lingered-- husky, glacial. It called her name.
Slowly, Siofra’s lips curled into a grin; the look of one who was not caught in guess, but rather... expectancy. She did not need to turn head. Following a short pause, her voice sounded from the wintery abyss, rich with thinly veiled amusement. 
"...So you are?"
The words echoed into the pitfalls.
Only then did she brake her stillness. Rising onto lengthy limbs, the raveness departed from her pale throne and ascended the incline with fluid ease, her ghostly breath brushing past dark cheeks. Not once did her look dare to stray from the wraith's wintery form. She favored the warmth of sands...but his chill was among the acceptable.
Siofra landed upon the hill's edge with a feathery bound, dark mitts sinking softly into the pale earth. Her approach was silent, weighted. Like the rise of a tide. Then, with a hushed tone and the ghost of sarcasm, she spoke. "I was under the impression that I had become a stranger."
She scaled the ledge, her tracks halting a distance away. Olive irises searched the male's expression, as though comparing his details against memory. 
"You're a long way from the glaciers, Astier."