Sawtooth Spire just what i had in mind

The barrier of mountain peaks kept the flat expanse well-guarded. Ainhoa called them mendiko hortzak, mountain's teeth, and wondered if Eneko could see them. She wandered along the path where rock met snow, sounding soft chirps for the lonesome ear.

Eventually, she broke off and made way for the clearing. There was a small collection of rocks, slabs piled atop one another, which drew her attention. She lowered herself onto her belly and crept as close to the undercarriage as possible, sniffing for deposits of moss.

The sound of chirps drew Q's attention, reminding her of Frolic. She missed having the otter by her side every waking moment, though she knew he was much safer back at the creek. Besides, some space would do both of them some good. She could focus on establishing herself in this Sagtannet place and catching up with her dear old dad. Meanwhile, the young otter could develop more independence, which he probably needed, even if that thought put a lump in Quell's throat.

She located the source and it turned out to be a wolf in a clearing, creeping toward a pile of rocks. Quell paused and cocked her head, watching the stranger with interest. She then went to force a cough to announce her presence, which also propelled a loud toot out of her backside. Q's eyes widened in surprise and she tried to suppress the urge to laugh, which resulted in several low snorts and a high-pitched hiccup.

Ainhoa had managed to squeeze the entirety of her head between the rocks. Her eyes were quick to adjust, allowing her some degree of vision as she ran her nose against the cool slate surface. She was completely unaware of the other's presence, and moreover, unprepared for her announcement. 

The cough took her by surprise. Her head jerked upward, forcing her chin to slam against the stone. The fart drew her head back down onto the ground with an off-putting thump! A series of sounds followed, each one more infuriating than the last.

She managed to wriggle her way back into the open and shake away the gathered debris. Were it not for Quellcrist's resemblance to Wintersbane, she might have gotten to hear some of Ainhoa's anger, who was instead resigned to plop into a seat and cool her bleeding nose in the snow.

She bit her lip when the stranger knocked her noggin as a direct result of Q's windiness. "Ah, shit—shoot," the youngster said, taking a few steps forward as the other wolf turned in her direction, exposing a bleeding nose which she promptly buried in the snow. "Oh Vellamo, is it that bad?" she joked without thinking, wrinkling her nose at the vague stench indeed wafting in the chill February air.

"Sorry about that," she apologized in the next breath, genuinely sorry for both the injury and the odor. Hopefully the snow would help the pain as well as any bleeding or swelling. There wasn't much to be done about the stink other than waiting for it to clear. "Do you need a medic? Do we have a medic? I'm new. I'm Q," the youth said all in one breath, swallowing another giggle that wanted to burst out of her mouth at the spontaneous poetry.

This is the treatment for a bloody nose, Ainhoa explained, In winter, at least. There aren't many other options. Her words were muffled by the snow, and further by her accent. She kept her snout buried in the snow, finding that it helped to quiet the throbbing that'd radiated up toward her forehead. If the bleeding didn't stop on its own, she would be forced to take a short dip in Windholme.

Another moment was spent mouth-breathing. I'm Ainhoa, she replied, I'm new, too. She lifted her head to examine the scene but found that her nose was still leaking. With a huff, she dipped back down into the snow.

Quell nodded. She wasn't particularly well-versed in medical knowledge, though she knew basic first aid, and water was often a key element. Frozen water, in this case, could provide both cleansing and relief. The youth noted the pink stain in the otherwise pristine white snow and that helped quash any last urge to giggle. She was glad her pack mate—Ainhoa, she called herself—wasn't badly injured but she still felt bad.

"I'm not sure about the other way around," the teenager quipped, thinking of the double assault on her poor olfactory tissues, "but it's nice to meet you. So you weren't either Courtfall or Diaspora?" she inquired, having been given a brief history of the very recent merger by her father during her initial tour. It was kind of neat to run into someone else who was purely Sagtannet. "What brought you here?"

Ainhoa settled onto her belly to lessen the strain on her shoulders. She turned an observant side-eye to Q, so that she might know she was still being heard. My pleasure, she replied, quickly adding, How old are you? The question was asked from genuine curiousity. If she was as young as she appeared, then the excessive fart jokes could be forgiven. 

Her thoughts shifted to Eneko, though only for a moment. In need of a winter home, Ainhoa explained with a lazy shrug, The mountains were my first choice. She couldn't imagine settling near the coast, nor sleeping in the plains. It didn't feel right, being anywhere but the mountainside. So, why are you here?

She sincerely doubted this meet-cute was in any way pleasurable for Ainhoa, though Quell didn't argue. Instead, she shot the other she-wolf a slightly sheepish, well-meaning smile. Ainhoa wanted to know her age, which made Q feel a momentary jolt of self-consciousness, which was a rarity for her. She knew she could be immature, though she didn't particularly want to give her brand new pack mates that impression. Q cleared her throat.

"I'll be one in spring," she replied, "and I'm here because my dad's here. He's one of the leaders... the Eisens?" Q shrugged, wondering if mentioning this would further affect Ainhoa's opinion of her. That was an odd thought, though not a displeasing one. She didn't expect special treatment, though now that she'd said it out loud, it felt kind of cool to claim the connection.

"I guess that makes me a princess," she joked in the next breath. If that was the case, she was going to be one of the least ladylike princesses of all time. "Anyway, what're you up to, Ainhoa? I was going to do some exploration if you wanna come with?"

The initial suspicion was quickly confirmed. Ainhoa lifted her head once more, pleased to see the that blood had slowed to a dribble. She turned to the girl and nodded, Wintersbane? I thought so. The pair held an uncanny resemblance, equally flattering on either wolf. 

She turned and began to walk, assuming her company would follow. Well, I was hoping that there was moss hiding between the rocks — she turned a nod back toward their starting place — but I didn't get a very good look. Ainhoa lifted a brow to Q, softening it with a smile.

An afternoon walk sounded like a decent idea. She decided that the girl seemed decent enough, and a little exploration wouldn't hurt. After you, she instructed, slowing to follow behind.

When Ainhoa pointed at the stack of stones, Q gave it a cursory glance. She almost insisted they check it out again but her companion was already on the move, so the youthful Thrall sprang to join her. Perhaps it was overly familiar for their brief acquaintance, though she bumped one of her speckled shoulders companionably against the other wolf's as they began their trek through the territory.

It wasn't long at all before the pair stumbled across a small cave. It was pretty unremarkable, as far as they went, though an intrigued Quell thrust her nose inside and sniffed. The air was cold, though she swore she smelled the stale scent of wolves. She withdrew to peer over at Ainhoa before her pale lavender gaze swept the area around the den's mouth. Even years later, there were still signs of a struggle, including flecks of blood on some rocks, black and practically odorless after all this time.

"Huh," Q remarked, unaware of the drama that had unfolded here once upon a time, "think we should tell, um, what's-her-face? @Wylla? About this?" Her father had finally mentioned his fellow Eisen's name and condition during the grand tour. Her eyes roved Ainhoa's face before she pointed her snout at the den again. "I mean, if the pack just relocated, she's gotta be on the market for one of these, right?"

She recognized the cave's potential but held onto her apprehension. The space was not suitable for a whelping den and would certainly require maintanence before the birth, if Wylla was interested. Ainhoa held back her words and stepped inside, exhaling deeply as she examined the walls.

The Eisen was still a mystery to her, similar to Mahler. Is she pregnant yet? she asked Q, figuring that a leader's daughter would have more insight. It takes time to prepare these spaces. 

However, Ainhoa was not devoid of hope. Her tail began a steady wag as she imagined the joy of assisting in such preperations. We can wipe the walls with eh, sponges, from the water. The river appeared healthy enough to grow them, if they hadn't already died due to the changes in weather. Mud and furs on the ground, to keep in some of the warmth...

She was rambling, primarily for her own benefit. Forgetting the faint throb, Ainhoa placed her snout on the stone and began to imagine what it could become.

"I mean," Quell said, now looking back at Ainhoa, her brow furrowing mildly, "I think so?" At least, that was the word on the street. She thought back on their encounter at the borders. She hadn't even noticed if Wylla was showing, though she supposed Wintersbane knew best.

Before she could speculate any further on the subject, her pack mate began talking about washing the walls and decorating the interior. Although a little nonplussed by the mention of sponges, she wagged her tail too, finding her comrade's enthusiasm contagious. "Sure," she chimed in agreement, "I can provide the furs." An otter's would be ideal, though naturally Quell refused to slay them any longer. Some rabbit pelts would suit.

"Actually," Q said, dimly aware that she was now thinking out loud, "a deerskin would be perfect. What if," she continued, pale eyes now bouncing between Ainhoa and the cave's cool, dim interior, "we decked it out and surprised her with it? D'you think she'd like that? Or maybe she's not the type to like surprises." She sat, stroking her chin thoughtfully. "If I was a mom-to-be, I'd prob wanna pick out my own digs..." Quell mused.

I think so. The answer was satisfactory, which made it acceptable. If Q was wrong and Wylla wasn't yet pregnant, it meant that the den would be prepared long beforehand, which was preferable to the alternative. Ainhoa nodded along the girl's suggestions, finding each one to be a welcome contribution. Do you hunt? she asked, You can bring many pelts. Wylla can pick from them.

Preparing a surprise was exciting but Q was right; what if the recipient was unappreciative? Ainhoa would seek out the Eisen and try to tease out an answer. You can lay the good skin here — she walked from the back of the cave to the front — and put the ugly ones underneath. Hunting often made a mess of the prey's pelt, so it was wise to not expect perfection.

"Does a bear shit in the woods?" Q replied with a grin, bobbing her head enthusiastically at Ainhoa's suggestions. "Only small game," she thought to add, though she supposed many smaller pelts would serve the same purpose as one larger one. When her companion mentioned putting the more fetching skins over top of the ones in worse shape, the young Thrall tapped her temple and said, "Good thinkin'."

She withdrew to the open air just outside the den, wondering if it might even be possible to hang some furs over the doorway to keep in the warmth. But would that make it too dark inside? Quell's lips pursed. She let her imagination run wild as a dozen other ideas cartwheeled through her young brain. Some of them were improbable, possibly impossible, though most were utilitarian at best and entertaining at worst.

"So!" she spoke up after several moments' thought, clapping her forepaws together. "I think we should do it, really pimp out the place and then present it to her when we're finished. If she ends up not wanting it, somebody will, right?" Q tossed an elbow toward Ainhoa in a jokey way, in the next breath proposing, "Why don't you go find those—what did you call 'em? Sponges?—and start working on the walls. I'll go hunt up some skins. Sound like a plan, Stan?"

Ainhoa wondered if the lack of manners was commonplace among Sagtannet's youth. She remembered Wintersbane and began to compare the two, finding herself surprised by how different they were. Once alone, she would think more on the topic.

S-sure, sounds like...a plan. Somewhat confused, Ainhoa nodded for Quellcrist to exit. She would follow suit and head toward the river, hoping to make it before sundown.

Ainhoa sounded sort of uncertain, though Q didn't read too far into it. "I'll catch up with ya' later!" she chirruped brightly, waving a (fore)leg before shaking a (hind) leg. Hunting for the sake of food was always pleasurable in its way, though the youth was very much looking forward to gathering their skins, taking a part of the animal she usually discarded as refuse and making good use of it.