Duskfire Glacier all this rotting fruit with you

She was not blind and her nose was not broken.

The scents of the land hinted spring was upon them. The women changed and she was sure the men would notice as well. Why did it spur something ugly within the soft woman?

Some deep dread of...missing out. An ugly grip of envy upon her heart.

All of these things she tried to ignore. Seclude herself away. Perhaps only keep to @Imaq 's presence the most. Her fellow soft medic did plenty to soothe her every other time they had encountered each other. Why would it not work now?

Either way there had been a change in Iana herself. One of mood and temperament. Such could be noticeable as she attempted to work on an unfinished pelt. Stripping with perhaps too much aggression for her.

The medicine woman had not spoken with her colleague, who she was fast coming to consider as a friend and confidante, in several days. Seeing as the others were a bit...preoccupied, so to speak, with the spring and its season of heat and rut (which the tribal cur was relieved to find was not at all like the traditions of her homeland), Imaq thought that she might stop by the medicine den where Iana had set up her apothecary and see how the other willowish piebald fared.

Her seaglass gaze found the wren through the open threshold, noting the angry way she yanked at the pelt she was currently curing and wondering if perhaps she ought to return some other time. Hesitantly, she chirruped a wispy greeting, dipping her golden diadem as if to ask permission to enter and visit with her fellow Caregiver.  

She dropped it all the moment she heard the little chirrup that fluttered against the cavern walls. Her face fell into a shameful and embarrassed look, worried to have been caught in the act of such...feverish anger. Especially in front of her fellow soft-spoken medic.

Come. She invited as she nosed down at the pelt and smooth out all the ripples she had created. As if that act alone would soothe the flames within herself. A fool's endeavor really.

I...I'm sorry. Unspoken what for, but she hoped the other would understand nonetheless that she felt frazzled about her display.

She gave a small, squirming wriggle of happiness -- unknowingly borne of her shepherd genetics -- as she tiptoed through the opening in the stone and paced to her friend's side, seeking to greet the other physician with a brush of her temple against the ukiligiak. Imaq wasn't entirely sure what the other woman was apologizing for but she smiled regardless, giving a tiny shake of her head as if to say don't sweat it.

"Iana seems..papvisâk," the mianitsijik murmured without judgement, hesitating only because it took her a moment to wrack her brain before realizing that she didn't quite grasp the proper term in common for the emotion. "Not mad...but," she wrinkled her freckled brow as if extremely worried about something, an exaggerated expression of anxiety and concern to express what she was trying to communicate. 

"Go for a run? Or hunt?" Selkie suggested, grinning with faint excitement at the prospect. Maybe running off some energy would help ease her friend's agitation. 

some translation notes! 
ukiligiak: 'spotted dog' (stretching this so it applies to piebald she-wolves too lol)
papvisâk: 'annoyed'
mianitsijik: sorta means 'shepherd'

She leaned carefully into the greeting, not looking to be as rough with Imaq as she had been with the pelt at her paws.

You know me well. Partially meant as some sort of soft tease but the statement was true and a bit duller than her usual humor. This unknown word — papvisâk — was perfect in a way. Not a word that Iana knew, but still a word pinned to her emotions by someone she trusted.

A run would do me good. Perhaps somewhere far through snow banks. If any could still be found. Something to plow through and wear her energy thin.

Glad that the other had accepted, and for her company, Imaq's lips curled in a bright smile, tailless hindquarters giving a small shake of an improvised wag. She patted over to the entrance of the healing den, stopping there to turn and peer back at Iana over a gilded shoulder of buttercream speckled with flakes of ground cinnamon. Waiting silently, and eagerly, for the other she-wolf to follow. 

sorry for the shortness!

No need to be sorry! :D

She need not be beckoned twice, the sight of Imaq looking over at her once was enough for Iana to follow. Almost mindlessly as she dismissed all the work she had been doing before. She trotted carefully to the opening as well, ushering her company with a gentle nudge to her hip. Then sought to take off through the tunnel entrance and out into the open if Imaq did not beat her to it first.

Imaq stilled as Iana bumped her way past, grinning as she saw the other rush for the opening of the Caverns. Imaq yipped playfully as she broke into a quick lope, casting a careful gaze around for any other pack mates she might accidentally bump into as she charged after her friend. 

She nipped the willow-curve healer as she sought to race past, laughter snatched by the wind as she quickly gained speed. Galloping across the plains of the half-frozen plateau, she aimed to burst through whatever low snow banks lingered on the spring Glacier -- snapping whimsically at any flying bits of white she sent exploding into the air.

Imaq did most of the work for Iana. When the unique northerner busted through the snow banks, Iana could follow that trail with relative ease. Wildly snapping at anything Imaq kicked up behind her. It was better than the alternative of being blinded by the snow.

With little warning, she sought to catch up to the fellow healer. Seeking to crash into her and take both of them down into the next snow bank.

Slender arms wrapped around her waist and suddenly the golden dove was tumbling, toppling headfirst into the snowbank with Iana still half coiled around her -- the world obscured by a cold blur of white as they collided and crashed into the soft drifts of pale powder. Imaq struggled blindly for a minute in the snow, tangled up with Iana's limbs, until at last her head popped through the surface and she cast a slightly worried glance around to make sure Iana wasn't trapped beneath the smothering weight of the snowflakes. 

Spotting her friend's face only a few inches from her own, relief filled her tropical gaze before she threw her head back in a fit of laughter. Breathless, her gaze returned to Iana's and her lips faltered -- as if she wished to say something or make a joke but couldn't manage around the dying giggles still escaping her.

It was a disaster.

The best kind. The snow sent everywhere and their fur a tangle of mixed colors. And when they exchanged looks, Iana could only find it in herself to clutch Imaq a bit closer. An eruption of her own giggles escaping her to join the northern woman's own.

This was very much the distraction she had needed.

could be fade? :3c

There was something in the way the wren pulled her closer, something Imaq couldn't quite pin down but she did know she could easily become addicted to it. Especially if it meant more moments like this one, with Iana's breathy laughter in her ears like the rasp of a playful wind tangling in the pines. For just a moment, the dove's cracked gaze flicked down to the slow curve of the piebald's lips and that addiction morphed into a newfound hunger. 

She shook it off, for now, not quite understanding -- and if she were honest, afraid of what it could mean.