Heron Lake Plateau Got your number

She stood at the edge of the plateau,  crisp autumn wind buffeting her fur, whike above the sky remained a solid, overcast grey. her stormy gaze was slotted against the wind, staring out at the vast expanse of land before her and contemplating one of two things. firstly, the hinterlands grew croweded. to the far East,  lay the pack ruled by Eshamun. to the south, that one lead by Spring. and to the southeast, far too close to her liking, lay the court. that aroggant, future less pack led by idiots and with wolves as shallow and moronic as Shalon. it was no secret that she had disliked the pack since her first encounter with its leaders, a hate that grew stronger with each encounter with its members. 

and now the idiots knew her name, thanks to that day many weeks ago with Nico. Shalon,  was the other, shallow and with the intelligence of a rabbit. her hatred grew, and now that Nico no longer afflicted with them, fewer bonds encircled the horrid emotion. 

but she would not think of them now, content here, as she slipped onto her haunches and reclined on her stomach, eyes narrowed against the brisk wind as she pondered a great many things.

It was growing cold. He was not a fan of such weather — herbs died then, animals went into hiding — but it did provide him the chance to perform some experiments that he could not do any other time: how long did it take for bodies to freeze a tail length under the snow, two tail lengths? Could wolves smell limbs underneath far underneath the snow? Was it possible to wake a bear in hibernation (that one he had not tried, but he was up for the challenge if he had another volunteer)? The elkskin bag he held was wearing down on his neck, he placed it down for now, feeling his neck click as he rolled his head back and forth. The wind blew, and a scent battered into his face; a wolf. A female no less. Bastian smiled, grabbing his bag once more and trotting to the smell, the smile still plastered on his face as the noble woman came into view. Immediately, he imagined the contrast of blood against her snow-white fur, but he pushed the vision aside for a mask of friendliness. Guten Tag, Fräulein! Are you from around here?

The wind blew not in her favour, and thus it was a few moments until the approach of the male was made known to her. she slid up smoothly to a sitting position,  ears twitching in the slightest as the unfamiliar accent roused her interest. as did the elkskin thing rhat hung from his maw, something that drew her gaze for a moment or two.

'yes" She answered quite simply at his request, peering at him with interest. he certainly was of much more interesting material than most around here. "And you?" She inquired of him, though in truth longed to ask a great deal of more interesting questions concerning his bag and appearance.

She looked what most would call regal. Her eyes matched her fur, a paleness Bastian had rarely seen but adored everytime. He dropped the bag, smirking at the pale woman, looking at her scars, wondering how fast they would heal if he re-opened them. Nein, no. I just arrived here. Vhat is zis land called?

Had she known theacrabe thoughts flitting through the males mind at the moment, she would be far from her current, casual demeanour. "This is Teekon. this territory is known as the Hinterlands." see motioned with a sweep of her muzzle.

"What do you seek here?" She asked, true interest dancing in her orbs as she wondered yet again over the significance of the elkskin bag he carried.

lol she wouldn't know his name yet

Her eyes — beautiful pale moons they were — gravitated towards his bag, as they usually did. He was more interested in what she called these lands: Teekon. A region known as the Hinterlands. Teekon was a strange name; he had never encountered such before. He idly wondered what language it must have come from before turning back to the conversation at hand. A vinter home, mostly. New specimens more like. A voice whispered in the back of his head. Bastian pushed the white noise aside, behind his cheerfulness. You have a pack, ja? You are smellink like a pack volf.