Silvertip Mountain oh oh feely eyes

it's quiet, here. rusalka feels full, busy; things keep changing. here, walking beneath the snow-laden pines on the mountainside, nothing changes. there is only the soft fall of snow, the silence. the girl's path is aimless, wandering. she pauses to inspect an interesting whirl in the bark of a fur, the prancing tracks of some just-passed squirrel. 

ahead, tines peak out from the snow. she feels a little rush of joy, and hastens her steps. carefully, she unearths the antler; whole and beautiful. one tine, however, is encased in ice. settling herself down, the girl chomps carefully at the snow, determined now to take the prize home with her.

Kiwi's travels tended to take her everywhere but the far south.  East, west, the wilderness, the valley; she roamed wide from her mountain seeking recruits and information.  Everyone that she met was generally good for one of the other.  Except the useless ones - the mute wolf in the forest came to mind.

Kiwi gave a little huff to herself as she stepped through the pines on her way to the west.  She'd trailed along the coast, curious of her enemies, but they still hadn't returned.  Just as well - even if she wasn't taking the cliffs, she didn't need another pack getting into her business here at all.

Then she spotted the other girl, chewing at the snow.  What was wrong with her?  Kiwi watched with contempt for a moment before she realized that something was trapped beneath.  Well then, this might be interesting.  She sat down to watch, obviously not interested in offering help.

under her careful work, the ice begins to loosen. when finally she feels something give, she moves to stand, missing entirely the approach of the other in her focus. grasping a tine, she plants her paws and tugs, sharply, upward. something gives, but in the snow it remains. she regains her grip and much more attempts to wrench it upward. 

this time, it breaks free from the snow, and her tail arches high with gladness. it lowers immediately, however, when her gaze finds finally the stranger. the antler is dropped carefully at her feet, and she shifts to better face the woman. she's silent, watchful, and clem feels a sharp bite of worry. shifting, she offers a careful, "hello?" 

She watched the girl methodically remove it and wondered what was so great that might be worth the trouble.  Food, perhaps?  If so, she could likely steal it.  This girl was small and alone.

And nervous, she thought with some satisfaction, as Clementine finished and caught sight of her.  She'd backed up a pace, so Kiwi stood and took a step or two closer.  Just an antler? Pointless.

I wanted to see what you were looking for, she said, bold as always.  But it looks like the good part is already gone.  Too bad for you.  She shrugged carelessly.  My name's Kiwi.

she steps near, and clem holds her ground, though discontent swells in her chest. when the woman speaks, however, she relaxes somewhat. "it's alright — I'm not that hungry, and it's pretty, um, neat." she answers, feeling rather defensive of her find. it was whole, and pretty, and she'd come to find that scarab had been on to something with his habit of collecting. "I'm clementine," she offers in turn, "from rusalka." she wants to know where the woman comes from, but is hardly bold enough to ask outright.

Hmmmm.  Kiwi was beginning to operate under the assumption that just because a wolf was already in a pack did not make them a lost cause. She thought the item was a useless piece of trash but that sort of talk didn't make friends, did it?

I guess so.  It's pretty at least, she said, smiling finally.  The name Rusalka immediately set something off in her... that woman had been from there.  The coastal pack.

You're a little far from the coast, aren't you? I thought Rusalka was by the cliffs?  she asked, and her curiosity was genuine.  She no longer had the cliffs in her sights, so hadn't bothered to find out.  That didn't mean she wasn't interested though.

she brightens considerably when the small scary lady smiles, and her guard is somewhat relaxed. she blinks when the woman mentions the coast, her apparent familiarity with her familiar pack softening her considerably. "yeah! we, um, had to move — the ocean got dangerous, and there were really big waves, and flooding." she explained. she'd missed the sea sorely, at first, but had grown to love the plateau just as much. perhaps it was her youth that made her adaptable, but she did not long as strongly for the brine and sun as she had. 

"we live on the plateau, now. that way," she offers, motioning gently with her muzzle in the direction she'd come.

Oh, that's too bad.  She empathized.  She was surprised to hear that it was the shakes that had forced them away, and she silently celebrated.  Just what they'd deserved.

I am forming a pack on a mountain, up north.  It's a beautiful spot.  But probably harder to live on than where you are used to, Kiwi said, hoping to entice a little conversation.  She wanted to get a feel for how this girl felt about her home.  Was she feeling lost, purposeless, frustrated?

It seemed like she might be simpler than that, but if she wasn't, perhaps Kiwi could reel her in.