Totoka River knocking on the door

Twice Caiaphas had forded the river, only to be swiftly repelled by the water's ice sedge. In frustration she had lingered along the frozen bank, working out some sort of method in which to cross without subjecting her life to hazard. Even the tip of her tail twitched as she schemed, dainty and catlike -- with a nervous whine she began to pace.

Her slender ears snapped back when she only faintly detected the sound of a wolf loping -- she turned her narrow skull and her feral eyes fell upon a pitch figure who pulled along the pristine snow and interrupted the scintillating landscape like an oil-spill.

She scented the air tentatively, prepared to run if he was affiliated with either Duskfire or Stavanger -- yet the briny wind was most uncooperative and offered her no assurance. With the quietness of mink the coywolf slid from her ice-tipped vantage and watched him brazenly.