Frostfire Ridge she wears the smell of blood and death like perfume

The trail she’d picked up let her in the opposite direction she’d desired, walking instead on slippery surface she hadn’t wanted to find. The luscious forest remain unseen, looking up the way she’d come in realization she’d gone too far to make it safely back up. Going down is the only answer, then circling back down to where she’d meant to be. Thuringwethil clings to what sturdy ground she can to ease herself down, stopping on the flatted ledge she can to take a break.

The sun barely breaks through the trees, leaving most of the ground frozen, and making it difficult to ever easily survive the terrain. With a heavy sigh, fighting away defeat, Thuringwethil looks down the next slow, a blanket of snow hiding a potential death trap  she’s unable to avoid. One step of her paw gives her the answer, nearly slipping entirely down the slope, but she’s clung the ledge enough to keep her steady on three legs long enough to back up.

She swallows the lump lodged in her throat and lowers to the ground, hefting a frustrated sigh. 

December had come to the forest––to the meadows, to the trees, to the frost-capped hilltop she plucked along to get here thinking the path she took was winding her towards "home". The day following her encounter with Taggarik, Lusca lost her way as she often did––her inner dialogue prated, walk until you can taste the salt blown off the beach on your lips but had failed to come through for her and the longer she gadded about, the longer, more perplexed her strides grew. 

Evening came around and cardinals huddled closely amongst themselves in the day's last masts of light, backed by a wine-stained sky––cheeks stippled crimson, that's how you know you've had too much to drink––as fat clouds stumbled drunkenly over the mountains. She slipped from the open space of the ridge and stashed herself in the woodland where dusk came much quicker, no longer preoccupied with the pipe-dream of food and rather eager to find her way back to something familiar. 

She negotiated the gelid countryside terrain without much difficulty–light as a thistle she was, and her paws flitted over icebound groundcover as if she were a young doe. Amidst her kibitzing around,  Lusca heard a faint crashing, and she peeled her eyes in all directions before resting on the soughing heap of wolf in the distance, skulking on the boundary of a ledge and looking somewhat blanched. 

Plowing through the snow–which thickened as she pranced away from the woods–Lusca was not shy about her entrance, coming up on the sable girl suddenly and brazenly from on high. "I see your problem." She announced matter-of-factly, a puckish smile souring her lips but vanishing just as fast. Peering down, she almost offered her assistance, knowing that there was hardly a way for the other girl to get to her elevation, but instead opted for a childish alternative: "you're supposed to walk around the edge, not plunge over it."

The snow the dark woman disturbed fell from the ledge, crashing below, to reveal stone covered in a sheet of ice. What little light breaking through above her shows her the next safe spot several feet away as long as she could get there without falling over completely to the ground below. She considers calling for Gyda but she’s unsure if she’s anywhere nearby and unwelcome help isn’t a path she wants to take just yet. A voice catches her attention, however, and she searches a few seconds before glancing up the incline. 

“Took a wrong turn,” Thuringwethil admits, half a smile on her dark features but they blend into the shadow. She’d already met one wolf in her work that had no home but she hadn’t gotten a lot of information, not having much more than she had already. “Give me a hand? I can’t tell where the ice ends.” Thuringwethil looks over her ledge once she’s broken the contact between herself and the stranger. She doesn’t even know if she can see it, either, it might just leave her to take a leap of faith and hope for the best. 

"Looks like you took several." A quizzical eyebrow raise punctuated her words as her eyes spied the scrambled pawprints trailing after the stranded wolf. Upon the woman's bid for help, Lusca paced the niveous perimeter of the declivity, scouring for a secure path up, but found nothing but iced-in crags. 

Pausing, she buried herself deep in thought, exploring their options until the lightbulb plinked on and she scampered into the nearby woods, hollering over her shoulder mid-bound. "I have a solution. Don't move!" 

After several minutes, Lusca returned, hauling a conifer branch behind her with a determined look decking her brow. The tree limb, despite being encased in frost, was pliable, and unlikely to break under the strain of wrenching -- turning Lusca into a decent makeshift belay. "I hope you're not fat." She hummed under her breath. 

Swinging one end of the branch over the ledge, she peered irresolutely after it, the glove of her muzzle clutching tightly around the lodged offshoot as she tried to speak around its interference. "Okay. Extraction attempt numero uno–hold onto this, if you slip, I've got you." Prrrrobably...

I apologize because I wasn't 100% sure what the actual plan is so I left it open ended, lmao.

Thuringwethil shrugs a shoulder before hovering over the ledge, looking down while the other turns to silence. It’s a few moments before she hears the other again, telling her to sit still and wait. The girl sighs and waits until she hears some commotion of her. Snow falls from up above and she tries to duck out of the way. Some of it gets on her face but she sees the branch lodged over the edge.

It takes several minutes for the woman to gather herself but she eventually wraps her jaws around wood. She tugs against it, testing it, letting the other know she’s ready, and with the stabilization, Thuringwethil puts her feet into the groves to work her way up. 

wups sorry that was confusing!!

Lusca splayed her stance and sank her claws into the frostbitten earth for traction, the opposite end of the branch bowing from the weight and shlepping her forwards marginally as Thuringwethil secured it. The loner scuttled her breech and bore down her jaws, hauling in reverse with all the might her little frame could mete out. If all went according to plan, Thuringwethil would be able make a (more or less) controlled ascent using the branch as a rappelling device and Lusca as the anchor.

The branch becomes a little sturdies as the other wolf steels herself against the ground, something Thuringwethil can’t see, but she takes a leap of faith anyway. Her jaws tighten around the wood and she pushes her paws against the incline, using it to anchor herself as she takes a few steps upward. The rocks put pressure on her paws and she slips at first, unsure of where she’s going. A few fly from the side but she is able to regroup easily and continue the momentum.

After a few attempts, however, she makes it the short distance upward and onto the ledge enough that she can drag herself over. Her sides heave with a wave of relief washing over her and she turns her gaze to better look at the wolf that helped her up. “Thanks,” she murmurs through a heavy breath but remains splayed on the ground to gather herself.

An echo from whelphood and those intermittent hours of tug-o-war with her litter-mates tampered with her productivity briefly, and Lusca issued a petite growl, slinging her head to and fro with the instinct to redeem the branch. 

But as the other black female came to a head on the incline and pancaked on the ground, Lusca scooted backwards and loosed her clutch on the branch, dumping it at their toes. ”No prob.” She responded simply, flicking her ear dismissively, then added with a jocose smirk, ”just doing what I can to lessen my karmic retribution.”

After a few heaving breaths, Thuringwethil felt herself even out and she shuffled to a stand position and moved away from the ledge. She would need to find another way down that isn't so slippery. She could go back up and find her way to the river but for now, she turns her focus to the other she wolf as she speaks. "Hopefully it'll pay off one day," she tells her. Whether or not the young leader would pay it forward would be something to determine later, but she tucks the favor in the back of her mind for the time being.

"I'm Thuringwethil," she finally introduces as she takes a few steps to make sure she's on steady ground. Her head whips away to look for a broken path untouched by her own flailing limbs. "What's the best way down?"

"Lusca." she murmured, peering over the incline. Shelves once relatively safe were now laden with snowdrift, much to the detriment of indiscriminate paws bold enough to negotiate its treacherous mantle. This Thuringwethil was sensible not to persevere with her initial course of descent and instead opt for a more conservative path.

To her misfortune, Lusca knew so little of the area that she herself was far afield from where she needed to be, and would not be found to provide much assistance. Lusca pitched her muzzle rearward towards the pinewood way back.  "I came from there, so... not a clue in the world." She said. Her focus shifted to the virgin snow ahead, and she squinted, not espying anything promising from their vantage point. "Maybe there's a slope down the way." 

The other offers nothing much useful other than her name—Lusca—and Thuringwethil nods slightly. Her gaze turns to the suggested route, then back up the way she’d come, before she shifts her body to face the unknown. A soft hum escapes her throat in consideration, not given many choices to go with. The territory is unfamiliar to her feet and she’s hesitant to go into the unknown, whether or not this wolf goes with her.

She offers a final look, here goes nothing, and begins the descent a little more safely this time.

Want to wrap it up? :3

yep! sorry for the delay. i'll close it up.

"Good luck traveler." Lusca hooted, leaning bottomward over the slope as Thuringwethil began her painstaking descent. "I'd spot you but I'd probably get stranded coming back up and I don't think I'd be as lucky to find stouthearted salvation as you were." She bared a pestering smile, eyes lingering on the woman for a spell before she spun on her inky heel and cleared off into the silva.