Verdant Basin We all make mistakes, and we all pay a price.
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It was midday when the popcorn-flavored wolf was spotted next; a passing kestrel saw the shifting of a body among the snow as it passed over, slipping soundlessly through the air on its way to its next meal. The wolf was to preoccupied to notice it. Had she, and Bronze might've wondered what she looked like from above.

No, her attention was directed at the massive lake she'd discovered. The shoreline had receded with the onset of winter; where once there was terra firma, now there was ice. It was thick in some places and chipped through in others. She had hoped to find something to eat here, or drink, but was fixated on the surface of the lake rather than the contents within it.

And, to top it all off, Bronze seemed to have lost her mind. She hadn't spoken a word since her arrival in the wilds (namely because she'd been in a fugue state, and that left monumental confusion in its wake) but now, seeing her own reflection staring dully back at her, the girl shared a frown with her mirror-self. Well shit, you look like roadkill, she commented without thinking — and afterwards, it seemed perfectly alright to the wanderer that she was talking to herself.
I prefer to associate myself with nobody, thank you very much.
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Lucifer strode calmly along the grassy slopes leading down to the basin of unusually clear blue water. He lifted his muzzle to the air and tasted the breeze for scents of another wolf, or perhaps some prey. The male cought a whiff of Bronze and his keen gaze zeroed in on her. 

​The male watched her for a moment as she spoke to her reflection. It made him curious, and, as if he made a little decision, Lucifer strode quickly toward her, clearing his throat gruffly before speaking.
"Not so often one meets a fellow who speaks to that which is not their, nor use such words with caution thrown to the breeze." A note of amusement tainted his deep voice and his eyes scanned with concentration, trying to judge her character. To him, the female seemed to be in a little state of confusion. He knew, well, assumed he would be able to outrun or outfight if need be. He may jump to conclusions, but who can blame him? So many have served that poison to him.
Names are given, not chosen, Yet somehow, they Reflect us, Mine holds a certain Truth, To who I really am