Porcupine Ridge I'm leaving here tomorrow for a place I don't exist

@Lumiya

she shivers, drawing in on herself, as a blustering breeze forces its way across the ridge. up here, the air is thinner, clearer, the cold more pronounced. but the stars seem all the nearer; as a rare cloudbreak reveals. she pauses, spinning in a slow circle as her gaze dances across those brilliant points of light. 

a prickle moves down her spine, and she is convinced, for a moment, that if she were to step into the air, it would bear her upward like a leaf in the wind. her maw is slightly agape, beath billowing as her gaze roams the heavens.

Luck did not find her that day; her path away from the pesky mountains had been blocked by an icy river, too wide to cross. She'd looked to and fro, trying to find a way around, but the pair of fluttering faeries were trapped. Lumiya did not have a death wish, therefore she turned 'round and ascended once again. Darn you, fate. She complained under her breath, nearly losing her balance at multiple points due to tired muscles and weakening spirits.

Eventually - she had no idea how long it had taken them - they reached a ridge. The wind was not much colder as it had been during her journey, thus she found this a good place to rest. The stranger went unnoticed, all sounds drowned out by the never-wavering mountain gale and her sight blocked by the snowflakes stuck in her lashes. Loinnir hooted, impatient and trembling, but the fae wasn't in the mood to condemn him for vocalizing his annoyance.

she finds the familiar constellations soon enough; there is beaver, crooked line, and fishtail. there are lots more to name; including one set she hasn't quite found an accurate title for. it is this she is pondering as the girl makes her way up the ridge, mind turning slowly as she considers. 

it is the nearby hoot of an owl that has her twist, blinking against a sudden wind that tears through her fur. "hello?" she calls into the dark, sensing the nearness of another, but finding no sign off them.

Lumi didn't know how to read the stars but found them beautiful all the same. They twinkled so peacefully, like the reflections 'pon the sea or the shimmering snow when a bright morning did come around. The fae couldn't help but feel so very small under that sky, perched 'pon a ridge with nothing but herself and her mute familiar — but they weren't alone.

She turned her head to see who had called out for them - or another - only finding shadows and silhouettes. Good evening? She returned hesitantly, her pristine voice standing out among the myriad of nightly noises. She felt Loinnir hopping from side to side, also trying to find the source of the feminine utterance. Don't be frightened - we come in peace. She followed up the greeting, seemingly talking to the mountain herself but, indeed, seeking the destination of her fate.

the stranger calls out; a girl, then, voice careful and light. it is enough for her to drop her guard, stepping down among the rock as she searches for the source. the stars are not going anywhere anytime soon, and she should still have a fair amount of time before the clouds return to hide them from her. 

"I'm not afraid," she answers, softly as she steps around an outcrop and set eyes on the girl finally. her age, she estimates, perhaps a little older. "I'm clementine," she offers as she pauses, tail wafting carefully at her hindquarters in an easy banner of friendship.

Eyes tired - mind tired - she awaited an answer. For a moment she thought she might've been imagining things, but if Loinnir had noticed it surely she wasn't dreaming or hallucinating. She knew what it was like to be in that kind of state - disoriented, but so very elated to be alive - and this was different. The cold kept her sharp, kept her gears turning and turning, and that hadn't been the case at the haven she'd found within a mystical forest of elves, sprites and other creatures.

Shuffle and steps, paws sinking into the snow making that satisfying, crushing noise - she now knew for certain they weren't alone, but it wasn't an evil spirit that haunted the ridge. The voice said enough; a young girl, perhaps the fae's own age, gentleness reflecting in the tones she put out there. There she came, 'round the corner and into the shine of the moon; her rosy coat no more than a few shades of cloud and iron in the dark. I'm Lumiya - Did my bird disturb you? She asked, assuming it had been Loinnir she'd heard before she checked if she'd been alone.

her pelt is interesting, unlike anything she's seen before. it seems almost otherworldly, and she'd rather like to know if it feels as soft as it looks. heat rises to her cheeks, and her gaze falls to the snow. auds flick forward as she moves to regain her composure, unsure of what blip had been, exactly. 

it is only when she speaks again that her gaze returns to the girl, and finds then the feathered bundle perched there. she blinks, feeling sharply that she's missing out, now. first Q, and now Lumiya; the raccoon she'd tried to coax down from the tree had only given her a fresh cut across her muzzle. "no, no — it's pretty. what's its name?" she queries gently, attempting to ignore that soft rise of envy.

Despite her otherwordly nature, Lumiya could not read minds. Any thoughts about her own appearance were whisked away to focus on the girl before her. She was a pale sprite without the harsher markings Lumi bore — eyes a creamy saffron in this light, so different from her own. She felt a fluttering in her stomach, a feeling she only got around her brother - Venamis -, though in that case it had been because she'd been so very nervous to meet him after what had felt like a century. One day, when their paths crossed again, she'd make sure to turn him and free him of their family's shackles.

I named him Loinnir - he does not seem to mind. She answered softly, far more interested in getting to know Clementine instead of talking about her miffed, little bird friend. You smell similar to a woman I met in the flatlands - is your home nearby? She asked, voice tame and tender as she leaned in. She did not know why she'd done this, perhaps so that the two did not disturb this marvelous night with their babblings.

"loinnir," she echoes aloud. "is he your, um, homeboy, then?" the girl queries, using the label she'd learned from Quellcrest. she shifts, tongue passing over her lips, before admitting, "I've tried to find a homeboy, but—" she shrugs with a small smile, rather hoping lumiya would reveal some secret to gaining a companion like hers. Quellcrest's advice of picking one off a tree had really turned out to be a dead-end, thus far. 

at the girl's next question, she moves too to lower her voice, feeling sudden as if too loud a Stimme werde die stille nacht somehow disturb. "yes—my home is Rusalka, on the plateau. my mothers lead there," she volunteers, curious as to the girl's origins. "do you live somewhere near?"

The word was an unfamiliar one to the young fae who spoke in riddles and metaphors, or at least attempted to. She chuckled and nodded regardless, finding it an interesting way of referring to her feathered friend. Why do you wish for your own 'homeboy'? She asked then. She knew her mother had simply stumbled 'pon a pesky raven one day and it hadn't left her alone since. Quite the same had happened with Loinnir, even though he most likely owed his life to her. She'd made clear that he was free to go whenever he pleased, but he'd stuck around despite this. Was this friendship then?

Rusalka, what a beautiful name for a place, she found. She referred to her parents as mothers, as in the plural. How odd that was - how could a child form of the pairing between two females? That was unlike how she'd been taught about mating, though she found it weird to ask. So, you're a princess then? She asked with a slightly teasing smile, then the sprite shook her head. We don't live anywhere right now - nothing has quite been like where I've felt home.