Whitefish River Are we the last living souls?

@Alessia back-dated to 12/20

Things seemed to just be getting worse for him and his wolves. Liri was still sick, and Kavik feared the worst; he couldn't help it. Now, to add salt to the wound, their numbers were dwindling, and the alpha wondered if they were strong enough to make it through the winter. He had left the plateau long after the sun set, needing a walk outside the borders to sort through his anxious thoughts.

Kavik padded through the snow until he came to the edge of the river where he took a seat. He watched the water move in front of him as his mind wandered, eyes watching the liquid disappear as it passed under the area where the water had frozen into a jagged extension of the bank. He wasn't sure how long he had been there before a familiar scent wafted into his nose. Myrren. He hadn't seen much of the woman since she joined; he figured she was just the type that needed to adjust before familiarizing herself with her packmates, but since she seemed to be close, he decided to check in on her. Rising to his feet, he began to track the dark female, moving alongside the river with his nose to the ground. It took him a little bit, but Kavik finally found her a ways upstream. He announced his presence with his usual low chuff so as not to startle her if she hadn't already realized he was there. Assuming she let him, he came to sit next to her, greeting her with a, Myrren, and a dip of his inky head as his gaze found the water once more.

The Plateau is beautiful, even under the cloak of winter, but Alessia has predictably found herself struggling to integrate. The number of scents in the territory has dwindled since she joined, yet she still tenses when she crosses a familiar trail a ways outside the borders. She's been alone too long, perhaps. She knows she'll have to break her isolation at some point, though. Ironically, this is what is occupying her thoughts when Kavik finds her. She glances up at his chuff, stiffening slightly as he sits beside her.
Hello, She murmurs after a moment, gaze sweeping over him briefly. He really does look the alpha type — massive, muscular, stoic. She dislikes him already; not that she allows it to show. The Plateau is quiet. There is no judgment in her tone — she is only observing, though she is undeniably curious as to how he will respond.

He sensed her stiffen but took no offense. She was neither the first nor the last female to be uncomfortable around him. Unfortunately, there were males out there who treated women unkindly, and it seemed he often paid the price. If given the chance, she would see he was different like they all did. Ruenna responded similarly when first coming to the plateau, but now he had started to feel a bond forming between them. 

He shrugged a little at her comment about the plateau. Considering all the misfortune we've suffered recently, I'm thankful for the quiet, he replied, emerald gaze still held by the river. Quiet was all he had wished for lately; he'd prefer it not be partly due to their low numbers, but still, he'd take it over a bear attack any day. How are you settling in? he asked next. He wouldn't ask why she had been somewhat scarce, assuming she had her reasons and not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable or pressured.

She finds it interesting that the pack has suffered in the time prior to her arrival, though she doesn't know what to make of the information. Perhaps that explains the departure of so many members — perhaps bad memories linger in the territory. Before she can ask him to elaborate on these misfortunes, though, he asks his own question.
She pauses, considering her response for a moment. She could lie — or give him a non-answer. She's more inclined to do either than give him the truth, but it's been some time since she's spoken to anyone and perhaps she's feeling a little more sentimental than usual. I spent quite some time alone, She says slowly, already feeling she's given too much. It's... an adjustment. It's a struggle, she thinks a little bitterly, training her gaze on the water.

He wondered why she had been alone. Was it by choice? It seemed loneliness was rarely by choice, but she did appear to keep to herself, so maybe she had chosen solitude. Still, he couldn't be sure there weren't any painful memories attached to her comment, so he refrained from asking his questions for now. Yes, pack life is very different from being on your own, he replied. It was understanding without necessarily asking for more information. If she wanted to tell him more, then he would listen, but he would leave it up to her to decide. By now, he had experience with wolves who came from troubled pasts, and he knew better than to force them to relive their nightmares. Of course, he could just be overthinking all of this like he often did with most things.

She nods slightly, silent now. She is not a woman to share of her own volition, though Kavik's decision against prying is undeniably the wiser one; she has no desire to revisit the last few months, much less at the whim of a man she barely knows and hardly likes. The inkstain is content to allow silence to settle between them, lowering herself to the ground with one foreleg crossed over the other and tail wrapped neatly around her body. It's easy to lose herself in thought this way, assuming Kavik doesn't break the silence. She doesn't necessarily ignore him, though, preferring to think of herself as exuding a friendly aura if nothing else. Hopefully he gets the message: his company is welcome, but small talk is not.

She nodded at his words but remained silent, moving to lie down on the ground. He said nothing, only watching her as she moved and then shifting his gaze back to the stream. For a while he sat watching the water move by in front of them. The sound of the river was different now than it had been in the fall before the frigid temperatures had solidified parts of it. Now, he could hear it plinking against the frozen areas before moving underneath the ice. He was content to say nothing, letting her lead the conversation if she wished to do so. The quiet between them didn't feel uncomfortable, at least not on his end. His mind kept him plenty busy as it drifted from one problem to the other, occupying most of his thoughts with anxiety about his mate and whether or not they would all make it through the winter in one piece, especially considering the recent coyote infestation. Their future on the plateau seemed entirely too unsure for his comfort lately, and he had no idea what to do about it.

She's pleasantly surprised to find the other is just as content with the silence between them; perhaps he isn't as thickheaded as most males. It isn't much, really — but it's a start. And she really should learn to like him, at least, if he is to be her alpha. She puts the thought aside, gaze tracing the water's movements. She's happy to sit in silence for the remainder of their time together, scarcely acknowledging the alpha but offering him a companionable silence for as long as he desires.