Shy Deer Steppes The heart is a wolf and it is made of glass

These steppes somehow managed to be even more barren than the meadow she had recently passed through, dry and dusty that they no longer held any plant life except for the dry husks of tumbleweeds. The sun burned hot here in the midday which gave Kinvara even more of an excuse to travel by night. During the day she would hunt down the lizards that scuttled by at fast paces, gobbling the creatures down whole and playing with the detached tails in morbid amusement.

Now that the night had come, so too did Kinvara. Her tiny form stalked silently, paws shifting the loose dirt in small divots that didn't resemble pawprints in the least. It amused the girl slightly, pushing the cool dirt around with her paws and causing the tiniest of smiles to flit across her features. It was often when she was alone that the girl showed emotion rather than in the presence of others, save for some rare like minded individuals. 

After meeting the cream colored woman, Menta, Kinvara continued on her path with little to no interaction from others. She preferred it that way in truth, though the red woman was bound to run across someone eventually.

Nighttime was cooler, more suited to Potema's Arctic coat, still thick though slowly shedding as summer blossomed. She combed the prairie for any signs of life; she found many of the grass varity, but little of herbs. It was a fruitless effort, she thought, but she kept moving through the grass, heading south. Every once and a while, she marked the ground, close to where she saw a clump of something important growing. She couldn't make out the details very well in the low light (thanks to her single eye), but the smell was familiar, even at their early stage of growth.

Eventually the dirt and grass turned into sand, and Potema knew that it was about time to turn back. She had no place in the desert; nothing grew there, it was too hot. She scanned the area first before turning around, eventually squinting at a dark figure in the distance.

She couldn't make out the features from here, but knew that it was canine. She kept quiet, hoping it wasn't a starving wolf out to find a meal.

Kinvara wasn't sure what induced her to turn her head, mayhaps intuition telling her that she was being watched. It could have just been coincidence but either way, as soon as she did the red woman caught sight of another she-wolf, this one paler than Menta though a light color all the same. Now that she had been seen, Kinvara figured she would be expected to come and speak with the stranger.

As seemed custom with strangers, Kin crept closer before stopping several feet away in the case that this stranger was hostile. Ruby eyes scanned the she-wolf's form, taking in all that there was to know. Curiously, there was a spider shaped scar on the woman's shoulder. It was not everyday that Kinvara was surprised but this was one such case, how had that scar come to be? Such was her surprise, it prompted her to speak.

"Vos habet a aranea?" The slight girl murmured in soft Latin, a tone of awe coloring her words.

And yet again a foreign tongue reached her ears, causing the witch to stiffen slightly. It came from a small woman, the hue of which she could not discern, not that it mattered much. Potema calmed herself, noting the awe in her tone of voice. Something about Potema's form amazed or impressed the woman. But what? You'll have to speak to me in this tongue, if you can. She murmured, wondering what the fuss was about.

The woman stiffened, mayhaps she didn't speak Latin or she didn't like hearing it. Kinvara licked her lips hoping this would not lead to her being chased away as so many times it had before. Some mistook her for another canid creature, not a wolf, while others simply didn't like the girl. 

"Why do you have a spider?" It came out sounding almost normal, only the smallest accent marring her words. English was harder for her to speak, the sounds wouldn't come out correctly after Latin being her predominant tongue.

The woman's language changed from the unfamiliar to the familiar and Potema understood their meaning. She wondered if the woman was familiar with their religion, or even religion itself. It was possible. It's a religious marking. was all she gave; even for those who followed her gods, it was an unfamiliar marking. Only a few of the witches and priests at Hag Fen knew its true meaning, and instantly knew that she was a daughter of a well-taught priestess. To her, it marked her as a true daughter of Mephala, born under the dark shroud of Mephala and Sithis' sancutary in Teekon Wilds. Would this woman question her further?

Kinvara nodded, still slightly awed that someone could actually make a scar in the shape of something on themselves. It had never occured to her do such things and it intrigued her. The mention of religion made her want to cringe, holding back a hiss of displeasure at the mention of it.

The Cult had done a number on Kinvara and she didn't trust such religions, though the scar itself was beguiling. "I am Kinwara." The red woman introduced herself politely, cocking her head slightly as if to ask for the spider woman's name.

Like her brothers, Potema tended to keep her true name to the knowledge of Blackfeather and Dark Brotherhood wolves only, using her middle name instead. It didn't bother her to lie -  it was still technically her name, after all - but this red-furred wolf wouldn't know any better. Vaermina. She said, evoking the name of the Goddess of Dreams and Nightmares.

She wondered why the woman responded with a slight grimace in her face, similar to how the red-woman questioned her own flinch towards the foreign words. Is the hunting better now? She asked, assuming the female spent some time in Teekon Wilds while the famine was in full swing.

Kinvara nodded as she was given a name, unaware that this wasn't the name Vaermina went by nor that it was invocation of a Goddess. Had she known, the fire pelted girl would have been running in the other direction. 

"I am new, I haw nudding to compare it to." Kinvara tried to speak as clearly as possible though the words were still a bit jumbled. She had assumed that in time the land would recover and she would be able to hunt better.

Potema was curious at the wolf's accent and language, no longer concerned about food and hunting. It would come back, she was certain. The wolf, however, firmly grabbed her attention. Where are you from? She asked, trying to make her words sound more like casual conversation than an interrogation. She had a tendency to do that unintentionally.

"To de east. It is a desert dere, much fire. De Cultum e Ignis lives dere. Cult of Fire in your tongue," Kinvara explained, shuddering at the mention of her birth pack. It couldn't even truly be called a pack, it was a group of selfish worshippers that had centered on the abuse of weaker wolves that could not fight back.

"Where you from?" Kinvara's head tilted in curiosity, she could smell a pack scent on the woman but could not identify who it might belong to.

She very faintly remembered the influx of plains wolves that flooded into Teekon Wilds from the east some time ago, somehow connecting the two together. There must be plains alongside the desert she speaks of.

Being a priestess, or at the very least, a fierce devotee of her own religion, the thought of another cult being so close annoyed, no, aggravated her. But the shiver that went down the red woman's spine intrigued her more. I am from a pack close by. We're called Blackfeather Woods, after the forest we reside in.She didn't mention the fact that they were a secret cult of bloodthirsty Daedra worshippers. It might be a bit triggering to her. Were they unkind to you, this Cult of Fire?

Kinvara nodded, intrigued though she might have run the other direction I'd any mention of their worship was made. It seemed like a normal enough pack to Kin but then she didn't know much beyond the name and that it was nearby. 

Kinvara glanced around as if by saying the name would draw her demons from the shadows, or worse: her last master. "Dey are insane. Dey use blood magic and crus de weak benea' deir paws. I was a slawe to dem," Kinvara explained in hushed tones, red eyes flicking around worriedly.

Blood magic? Potema was instantly curious. She had heard of the practice before, but never an entire cult practicing it... Slavery, however, wasn't something she was interested in. She was all for subtly controlling a person...but forcing them with violence? Never. As far as I know, there are no slavers here. Not active slavers at least. A pack might take a wolf hostage if they trespass, especially if they were from a rivalling pack, but never for the express purpose of labor or Daedra knows what else. This cult...they must be far from here, correct? You should be safe.

wrap this up soon?

"Yes, dey are far from here," Kinvara assured, more for herself than the other woman. Her pelt had bristled upwards slightly along her spine out of fear, similar to a startled cat. "I soud get going. Besides your pack must wonder vhere you are," Kinvara murmured, moving to take her leave with a nod in farewell directed at Vaermina.

The woman looked frightened; perhaps they were worst than Potema was thinking. Not all magic users were benevolent (she wasn't one of those benevolent ones either, honestly), especially if they were slavers. She nodded in farewell to the foreigner, Indeed. Farewell, Kinvara. She murmured, before walking back towards her dark home.