Dawnlark Plains sorrowful successor

@Teacup hope this is alright if not lemme know and I'll fix it up. also pls excuse 5am-no-sleep post

Outlander huffed with distaste. The land before him was more barren than an elder. His peach-colored eyes couldn't even spot any signs of a herd in the snowy lands. He needed to head south to warm weather. Perhaps there he could find something worth his time. If that was even possible.

His chest was pushed out as he strutted about, flaunting off his stuff for no one but himself. This sucks. The large fella muttered in rough tones. He was craving thawed and flowing water, not this awful snow stuff. Outlander was a beast who craved the sights, smells, and feelings that came with moving bodies of water. Specifically the ocean.

Now he had to figure out how to get out of here and go wherever the ocean might be.

Tagging for reference.

Originally, the farm was just a speck in her rearview mirror, an abandoned home that she had no intention of returning to. Then, gradually, it grew even smaller before disappearing from the horizon altogether, the only thing left to remember it by being the scents that still clung to her mass of fur—and even that faded out of existence within the first few days of walking. She stuck close to those she knew, trusting and following @Oqdis and @Longshanks without hesitation. And, up until just a few days ago, she’d never gone so far that she could see neither of them—but Teacup had fallen behind, the extra inch or two added to her stubby legs by her partial wolf heritage having done little to make maneuvering through the snow any easier. Luckily for her, the cold did not offer any problems, however, just the mounds of snow themselves; it took her awhile to push through it all, paving a path for herself through the blankets of white, for she was not equipped to travel over it.

Feline-like ears swiveled back as she struggled forward, a voice catching her attention—but it was not one she recognised, belonging to someone that she did not know. Stopping, she turned her head to watch him strut through the snow with what she could only assume to be ease—earning him an audible snort. The bear of a dog stared at him thereafter, eager to see if he’d continue the show (and needing a moment to replenish her energy).

He would have happily kept strutting along had the snorting sound not caught his attention. The large fellow halted his movement as an ear flicked softly. Head turned and peach color eyes fell upon the rather fluffy form in the snow. Their coat was a lovely reddish-brown but their build seemed so foreign. It caused a dark brow to rise sharply before he offered a woof.

'Lo there stranger. He stood in his spot, content to keep the distance until he figured who - and what - he was exactly engaging in conversation with. You from here?

At least it would be an interesting interaction. Hell, it already was! Staring at the fluffy gal was already entertainment for Outlander. Perhaps it was rude of him to eye her over but it truly wasn't his fault. He wasn't the one who had showed up looking like that.