Shy Deer Steppes let me not die ingloriously

snow falls lightly, now, though this first glancing touch of winter can do little more than melt against the earth. it is midday; or rather should be, but the clouds and lingering ash drawn taught over the heavens perforate the wilds with a sharp-edged gloom. within it, she wanders, tied to no people and no place. 

it is not such a bad thing to be, unmoored, but it will not suit her long. she will not become like the specter, careful and absent; and she imagines all too quickly faded from this world when her time comes. no, at the very least she will find some place to weather the winter. she is not so proud as to attempt to weather it on her own again, not at the sacrifice of her strength. 

and so she is ever-shifting in her trajectory, never lingering in one place long. now, she heads north, the sharp-fanged mountains rising in the distance, barely discernible among the snow and haze but clear markers of where she plans to head next. 

In sharp contrast to the white and grey that littered the land, the General stalked forwards, her red coat a blinding beacon in the almost grey-scaled world. She had no real purpose to wander this far from pack lands other than to map the territories surrounding the Haunted Woods.

At first, Alison did not notice the other, her pelt a moving smudge amongst the snow. It was only when she drew near that she made out the shape of wolf. Who travels here? Her bark was loud enough to fill the void of distance that stretched between them. She did not intend to inch forward should this be a pack wolf not far from her own grounds.

the commanding bark that rings out is loud enough to startle a more nervous creature, but the woman only straightens, glancing to the stranger through the haze. composed of ruddy reds and umber, her outline through the falling ash and snow is clearer than her own, but hardly enough to make out more than a few details. 

she steps toward the woman, automatically assuming a cool dominance that does not ask to be proven or disproven, but is merely a reflection of the station she once held. will hold. "only a wanderer," she calls back, searching for the woman's scent amongst the overpowering ash. it is feeble, and the wind is against; hardly enough to discern much. "who wishes to know?" there is no pack settled here, or in the least none strong enough for her to take notice of. a scout perhaps; and thus a source of information.

A traveler, so she was alone. Clearly the general had nothing to fear so she would stalk closer, only to close some distance so the two did not have to raise their voices. It would be better if you did not know. Now close enough to make out the woman fully, cold eyes scanned the female before tilting her head seemingly making an assessment. I hold power within the Nightwalkers. A group that takes jobs in return for heavy payment. What brought you this way? If you wish to avoid trouble, stay clear of the woods.