Great Bear Wilderness Take my hand through the flames

Nearish to Redhawk Caldera, dated sometime before the 29th. @Trick!

She had found herself tracing the route that the desperate group had followed all those weeks ago, and recognizing certain landmarks. Tuktu she had explored throughly, and though she had decided that she would not be vying for the scout trade, she knew there was a whole different world to the north she had barely touched. She would not go so far, but she wondered what had happened to the land she had left behind.

It was touched by autumn, the land, and an underlying chill lay in the air, the leaves turned crisp and faded. She moved like a wraith through the land, a silent ghost as she surveyed her surroundings. Her silver gaze betrayed nothing, gaze cool even as she moved here alone. She slowed as she neared a creek, dipping her neck gracefully as she moved to take a drink, wondering when the foliage above her would erupt into the flame of late autumn.

Whatever Grace was doing- it was not keeping the stock filled. He supposed he could've expected this from a cripple, but she had always been so determined and helpful. He wondered what had made her give up. Speaking of her, he hadn't seen her around much. After departing when they first joined, he hadn't even scented her that much. Was she too shy to say she didn't like it here? Ugh, females.

He left the Caldera, not for good, to hunt. His small frame was only capable of catching even smaller pray, mostly rabbits. Rabbit was actually his favorite, so the rest had to like it too if they wanted any food at all. Meat was meat, after all. Like a shadow he weaved his lithe body through the trees, tail flicking gracefully every now and then as he was trying to find something to eat. It was not long before he smelled another that he ran into a ghost-like creature, a paleness his eyes weren't ready for. He blinked, standing just a small distance away.

Another. The scent drifted toward her before the noise and sight, a male, dark in colour as he slipped toward her. She continued her drink a moment longer, before carefully lifting her muzzle and fixing her striking gaze on the other, orbs impassive. She was still as her tongue caught a single stray droplet roving down her chin, and she was silent as she waited for the other to speak first, perhaps learn of his intention in this wood and whether or not she would have to fight him. 

He didn't seem especially malicious, staring at her as if he had seen a ghost, and she matched his look, roving her eyes over him, determining him to be of good health and well fed.

She was stopping for a drink- he assumed as she lifted her head from the water. His tail was carried high in dominance- the Caldera was indeed close-by still and here they ruled. He was small, but never would he back down if this woman wanted to bring his "friends" harm. She seemed rather neutral though as the water ran down from her mouth and she neatly picked the droplets up and into her mouth again. Trick could only focus on the many cuts present on her snow-like muzzle and the pack-like scent she carried with her. It was not a pack he knew (Then again, he didn't know many) but it was enough for his hackles to rise slightly in defense.

Greetings. He said in his honey sweet voice, handsome face still studying her every move. If only he had paid attention on the way to here- he would've found poison in a tail flick...

Her cool gaze picks up on the defensive raise of his hackles, and a small, amused smile dances on her muzzle a quick moment. She does feel a brief moment of pride at being considered intimidating, but it does not show and her smile is short-lived. He smells of pack, perhaps a nearby one, though she has no interest in that. When he speaks, it is with a voice sweet as honey, and while another may have though the stranger dashing, she does nothing of the sort. If ever, a slight suspicion dances on the edges of her mind. She is no stranger to the sly workings of trickery and other such tools, having employed them herself at times. 

"Greetings" she replies, smoothly. "No need to be defensive. It is not blood I seek." she said, watching him for his reply before continuing on to questions that she had about the area, that perhaps she could ask.

It was only natural for a small-but handsome- guy like him to be defensive when meeting a scarred stranger. He certainly wouldn't want his spotless, smooth pelt to be disrupted by ugly scars- but if it was her fashion style, he truly didn't care. Trick wasn't a fighter, one could tell just by looking at him, but backing down he could and would not. He does take note of her almost disinterest in him- for most the females he had met had had that dirty twinkle in their eye when first talking to him. This amused him- it was not every day he could not impress. 

Very well. He said with a smirk. Any other would've stayed for a chat, but not him. He felt he had no time to waste on one lone female that was no threat to him or his home. He shook his spotless pelt -quite gracefully so- and took some steps in the direction he was firstly going in. He had to hunt- he simply had to.