The Sunspire Fear nothing

Although Koontz now had roots firmly planted in the Dragonwatchers' realm now and she performed her duties there quite proficiently, she could not deny the wanderlust that still sang in her blood. Although she felt guilty after her first few forays beyond her new territory, she reminded herself that she was free to roam, so long as she always returned home and took care of her responsibilities. Besides, as one of the pack's two leaders, she felt it was good to get out there and spread word of the pack. If there was one thing she could do, it was act as a diplomat to represent Dragonwatchers.

Today's venture took her the furthest she'd ranged from home since claiming the plateau. She blinked up at the mountain, admiring the way the sunlight glittered on the snowy peak. From this low, distant vantage point, she couldn't make out many details, yet a sparkle here and there indicated to her that the snow melted further down the slopes, running in little streams that caught the sunlight. The overall effect was that of a giant diamond whose surfaces sparkled brilliantly when the light struck it just right. Like a crow eager to find "shinies" to add to her nest, Koontz angled her slim gray body and prepared to climb.

As she hoisted herself up the steep mountainside, she couldn't help but think of her mother, who hated heights. Koontz remembered the time March Owl had taken her to Nightsong Ridge, for reasons the yearling couldn't remember now. In the end, she'd practically had to drag her mother down the slope, after witnessing her projectile vomit over the other side of the ridge. "You're so gross," Koontz had told her mother when they'd finally made it safely home, Mo speckled with her own vomit. The Stellata had grinned at her young daughter—she hadn't been more than two months old—and threatened to eat her tail. She'd chased a squealing and giggling Koontz around the den site, snapping her jaws...

A distant peal of thunder speared right through her thoughts, scattering them. Koontz arched her neck and peered over a gray shoulder, wondering. The sky looked blue and clear, though she saw some mean-looking clouds gathering to the south. She paused, wondering if she should save this climb for another day, then began to turn in order to descend, erring on the side of safety. As she picked her way back down the mountain, her pale eyes flicked up every now and then to drink in the magnificent view and Koontz thanked the stars (a habit she'd developed on her father's behalf) that she'd never inherited her mother's phobia. What a pity to miss a view like this.

Having grown up in a relatively flat stretch of land, mountains were a new experience for Spine—and one she had grown immediately fond of. Her muscles ached after a good, long climb in the best of ways. Besides, the Blackthorn was convinced the creature she had seen mere nights ago made its home in these parts, and she was determined to catch another glimpse of it—if not an actual conversation. Being late summer, Spine wasn't too eager to find a new pack to call home and opted to enjoy her "freedom" for as long as she could stand it. So, despite the fact that the mountains seemed to be empty of any other wolves, the Blackthorn decided to call them home for the time being.

And although she hadn't quite explored every single mountain in the range, yet—that adventure would take some weeks, she imagined—a single peak swiftly became her favorite. One side of it sloped gently, all green and calm and peaceful, with small rivers and streams glittering down from the snowy summit... but it was higher up where the true adventure and beauty began, for it became hard and stony. Spine imagined it like a castle, riddled with caverns and overhangs; a fortress, begging to be ruled by a brilliant king or queen. "If I were a mysterious creature of the night, that's certainly where I would go," she mused.

A peal of thunder interrupted that thought, and Spine's ears went back with indecision. Having never been in the mountains before, she wasn't entirely convinced it would be safe to continue her attempt to reach the higher, rocky sections of this one—but she didn't quite have the heart to leave it, either. "Well, shit," she commented, not yet noticing the descent of another nearby.

When it came to speech, Koontz took after her father, nearly never using the colorful language her mother preferred. Nonetheless, the quiet utterance of, "Oh, shit," summed up her initial thought upon hearing the first rumbles of thunder. Surprised and intrigued, the yearling turned her head, pale eyes and hoary ears questing for the source of the voice. She found it on a ledge parallel to her own and slightly higher up the mountain.

"My thoughts exactly," she called to the stranger. Examining the ground in between them and finding a relatively navigable towpath, Koontz began to shuffle up the rock wall toward the other wolf. En route, the stranger's scent teased her nostrils and she catalogued the information she discovered from it. "I was just heading down. Are you doing the same? There's probably a cave or something nearby, though, come to think of it—"

Before she could complete that thought, which was spoken aloud, her ankle gave way on a loose bit of rockery. Koontz stumbled forward as the ground gave away underneath her right forepaw. Luckily, she did not go careening down the mountainside. Instead, she buckled onto her belly, her chin hitting the ground hard. Feeling a little stunned from the sudden fall and hard impact, she scrambled away from the crumbling ledge, pressing her left flank into what felt like comfortingly solid stone.

"Damn," she muttered quietly, taking a deep breath and giving herself a moment to quiet her fluttering heartbeat. As she lay sprawled there, she blinked up at the stranger, wondering whether her accident had been more terrifying or hilarious to the onlooker.

"My thoughts exactly."

The words caused Spine to tense slightly, unexpected as they were, but she quickly realized that she was in no danger and relaxed. She turned, her paws shifting carefully to maintain balance, as her golden eyes searched for the disembodied voice's owner. The other, a female slightly younger than herself, was already navigating to close the distance. Spine could only watch—slightly awkwardly—as the yearling closed the gap, speaking all the while. As she was nearly finished with her speech, however, the young female slipped.

Spine's heart leapt to her throat, and as she took an instinctive step forward—wishing to help, but unfortunately completely helpless—she could feel it flutter there in a slight panic. The stranger's stumble seemed to occur in slow motion, but seconds later she had clumsily found solid ground. Those more accustomed to the mountains might have laughed, but being relatively new to them herself, the experience was a little too close to the fears Spine held in the back of her mind.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned, as she moved carefully towards the other to help her back to her feet. "I'm sure it was worse for you, but I almost peed myself."

She received a question rich with concern. "Yes, I'm okay," she replied reassuringly, pushing herself upright. Despite herself, a dry laugh burst out of her in response to the stranger's comment. "Sorry to have frightened you. I'm actually sure it looked worse than it was. I didn't even bite my tongue or anything," she said as if this was the best possible outcome. Her brow then furrowed slightly as she murmured, "I don't know when I got so clumsy. I thought I grew into these legs a while ago..." She was thinking of her recent spill in front of Teklar.

Oh, well, she thought, deciding not to dwell on it right now. A fat, cold raindrop on her head helped her worried thoughts scatter as well. She winced instinctively, looking at the other she-wolf, then beyond her, to the quickly darkening sky. The storm was moving in more swiftly than she could have anticipated. They wouldn't be able to climb down safely in time, so there was only the option of finding shelter now—that, or standing out here in the rain waiting for the storm to pass.

"There's no time. Unless we wanted to rush down the mountain and risk breaking our necks and all four of our legs, we don't stand a chance of beating the storm. Do you see anywhere we can take shelter? A cave would be good but even an overhang would be better than nothing..." Koontz said, her pale eyes combing their surroundings searchingly.