Silvertip Mountain I was told there's only one road that leads you home

@Annaliese — finally got it up :)

From afar, the boy was a shadow traversing the mountain, dipping from crevice to crevice with an aptitude born of repition. His limber appendages carried him nimbly across aged trails, and his dark inheritance shimmered a spectrous blue. It was uncharacteristic for the stripling to be so predictable, but Marruz had been here many a time, and he knew exactly why he continued to return.

Silky spirals of carbon lifted from his lips like smoke from a cigarette. He watched them writhe and dissolve into the evening air with those incongruous sable and indigo eyes that glinted a steely, albeit contented, light; two oil lamps in the waning glow of the sun. The hues caught his body in a chaotic blaze of luminescent blue — a biproduct of his Melonii heritage — that would, once nighttime arrived, settle back into its subtle sheen upon a smooth, ebony canvas. 

A vagabond at birth, Marruz was not willing to remain encopsed within the Weald for very long. True, it was a place that he deeply revered and felt comfortable within (for once), but it was also simply too rooted for his young soul. Besides, he yearned to see the stars from more than just between those towering limbs. They were an integral part of his life now: something he lived for, if nothing else. So, tonight, like many of its predecessors, he was yet again on an adventure.

Thanks for starting :)

Winter bites persistently at the heels of any living creature; a challenge that Mother Nature presents them all, year after year, with the mindset that only the strong would survive. Annaliese used to judge lone wolves for their stupidity during these months, and yet, she has learned there is little room for her to talk now. The yearling herself wandered from the cushioned life of spoiled royalty into a vast wilderness; the only one she can trust is herself in these conditions. She never understood the stories of how hunger would ache, and ache until finally, it numbed. Now she is starting to experience each fable. The teaching of her mentors are her only saving grace.

She bites down on the small hare between her jaws. It's body skinny with little fat, for it seemed to either be ill or unprepared for hibernatation and forced into an irregular schedule. Anna is just fortunate that it is something, though she fears eating more than a few bites at a time. If her stomach grows used to food and being filled, surely the pain will only return. She must be careful, and find a balance between keeping her strength and surviving. Perhaps it was foolish to traverse the mountains; maybe she should have remained in the Taiga, at least there are plains. There is little time to think of conquering hikes that dwarf her Slope; her icy blue eyes catch the shadows moving, dancing across the mountainside near to her position laid amongst dead undergrowth.

A wolf, she confirms upon closer inspection. Her eyes narrow, cautious of this stranger, especially with her meal. Fortunately, she is to the right of him. While she stays put, he seems to be climbing. Annaliese has never been great at blending in the winter landscape, however, and thus, sticks out like a sore thumb with her bright colors. The brown of dead bushes and trees can only help so much. She gets up slowly to her feet, but remains crouched close to the ground; prepared to use momentum if she needs.

no problem :D

Marruz had never encountered another living soul upon the mountain. Indeed, he had assumed it to be barren of organic interest, and, therefore, the perfect hub for his introverted self to roam. He was always self-aware, nonetheless, but when it came to Silvertip, he had always relaxed more upon the pretense of total isolation... 

Was that a sound nearby? His consciousness pestered him — told him to open his eyes and stop daydreaming. But he only cocked his ears with a sniff of disinterest, furrowing his brow in a detached kind of way and pacing almost right past the manifest creature perched a matter of breaths away. 

It wasn't until he was a few pawsteps ahead that something flared in his peripherals. Immediately, Marruz activated alert mode. It was something characteristic to the boy: outwardly, his exterior grew eerily still; inwardly, his senses were traversing the entire vicinity. He could tell by what little he had seen that the wolf was female, and, by the sound of it, perhaps not the strongest at the moment. The facts settled him enough to resist fleeing: he was an adolescent, after all, and he couldn't outright take on a mature male. But this girl... Well, maybe he could just keep walking. 

Marruz's indigo eye flickered over towards the fellow yearling. He was surprised to meet another one so young that was not a Melonii, and, in a rare dismissal of his indifferent nature, the surprise glinted within his mellow gaze. After all, he was fortunate to have found a pack to rely on for the winter scarcity. How could she possibly manage to survive like this?

He scanned her for a brief pause; made sure the fae was aware that he had seen her. And then he straightened his broad and developing shoulders, and parted his maw with what that dry humor of his. "Would you like to attack me? It would make it easier if I just stood here. I think there's a nice drop nearby, too." 

Marruz was odd like that. He liked being unpredictable and he liked finding himself in new situations. His orbs blinked resolutely at the female, cow-like in their complacency. A light wind brushed at the statue of his frame, buffeting his fur in a barrage that only grew colder by the second. He held her gaze; tried to unveil why she was here and not with her family. Why she was alone, and why it seemed so familiar.