Spotted Eagle Mountain evermore

the climb wears on her muscles in ways she'd never previously experienced, though the challenge of ascending the snow-covered slope proves too interesting to pass up. she supposes it is living on a mountain, and the strength required to do so, that had allowed the moonspear wolves to proffer the alliance they had. she thinks perhaps she will stay on the range for a time—it seems to stretch north and south further than she can see, and there ought to be more challenges like this once.

she comes to a small plateau, eventually, dotted with firs. hunger begins to tighten her stomach once more; how different it is, providing for herself alone. she does not think the copse will hold any prey, but it would be more foolish to move on without investigating. continued climb put on hold, she instead makes for where the trees seem the thickest, keen on investigating. 

tagging uncle @Aries

The mountain provided a riveting array of scenery - from charred, blackened trees, swallowed by lifeless charcoal, to the sprightly emergence of life winding perilously through the dead. As though, perhaps, rebirthed soldiers were rising to stand from betwixt the corpses of the fallen. The snow, of course, blanketed all - a curtain of frost, to protect until spring.

He had been trailing the mountain range for a mere few days, now, after his encounter with Tundra; that winter-born warrioress. She plagued his thoughts frequently, and he cursed the prevailance of her memory - so bewitchingly inevitable. It was this that whirled upon his mind, an empyrean blizzard during his travels, while he contemplated which trail to follow - and this, in turn, led him to the path of another. Her scent triggered something in the very depths of his mind, but what, he could not be certain - some vague, distant familiarity, though most certain he'd never met her before. Had it been another soul, worn and weary on the mountainous trek, he'd have stalked right past and continued on his way, wrapped in his tireless solemnity. But the familiarity... it peaked his interest enough for steps to halt, lips parting to taste the air from a distance, once the girl was within his vision.

there are trails here, to her surprise; a ground squirrel, a fox, and a group of grouse. the latter is the freshest of the lot she'd found so far, and yet remained old enough to warrant further searching. she huffs, breath condensing thickly before her, as her attention is brought to a scrap of fur left pinned to a rough-barked fir.

it is the shrill alarm-call of a cardinal that has her start, stiffening as she straightens, swinging her head around to pinpoint first the splash of crimson as it wings through the trees, and then the greyscale stranger that stands a distance away, watching. twisting towards him fully, she strides once, twice, toward him, closing the distance to one more benefitting communication. "what do you want?" her voice is steadier than the thrumming of her heart, which she does her best to ignore. it is her own fault; out here, she ought to be ever alert. gimlet stare bores into him, shoulder tensed should he prove a threat.

With couth sobriety did he regard the girl - whom, as he observed her pivoting stature, proved to be little above half a year. A youngster, amongst the mountainous trails. Her voice echoed upon the wind toward him withal but careful judgement of one who was wary - but still, had she paid greater attention she might have witnessed him sooner, and should he have truly proved a threat, on this heimal day, crimson might stain the snow already.

But he was not ravenous in his bloodlust - not today.

"Nothing," he mused, voice grumbling from the cavities of his chest. Across the girl's back was a faint, muted dusting of stars, Aries noted, and distantly, they reminded him of the pale sprinklings of Cassiopeia, though only a fraction resembled the ebony of his sibling. Natheless, the girl resembled a melonii - perhaps one of their bloodline. "You remind me of someone." None specific, not yet.

her gaze narrows, disbelieving. he was older, and experienced, judging by the scars he bore, and she was fairly sure a fight would not end in her favour. still, it does not seem to be his intent, though she's not stupid enough to let her guard down entirely. 

you remind me of someone. she regards him, carefully, waiting for some spark of familiarity like she'd felt with Tundra. "who?" the angle of his jaw, the set of his eyes, they prompt some memory she can not quite pin down long enough to analyze. perhaps it is nothing, she rationalizes, shifting her weight somewhat as she regards him. it could be only his own declaration that prompts her to see familiarity in him, though the elusive nature of memory is frustrating.

If a fight was to come, he'd be steeled; ready. But alas, in their communication was the musings of curiousity alone, and his intensions, too. 

"Who?" she asked of him, and Aries' lip twitched in the barest traces of amusement. Who indeed, as he wondered himself, but could not provide an answer - one clear of vacillation, at the very least, so instead his lips parted to spout only hints. Vague trails, for perhaps one might probe memory, and lead them toward a resolution. "A melonii, a svartell - perhaps both, perhaps neither."

her brow narrows, shoulders tense. "how do you know?" stupid, perhaps, she ought to not have pointed out so plainly that's he's right. the wariness in her voice is a clear enough sign. her gaze traces his face, pelt, the cut of his silhouette. vague, twisting familiarity and nothing more. she's always made it a priority to know more about others than they knew of her, and now she's faced with a clear disadvantage. 

"you're from blackfeather." she states. it's the only explanation; their family as it had stood had begun and come to an end there. had he cited only one half of her bloodline, he could have been anyone.

Taut; rigid.

Evident by unyielding posture, his mark had struck - she quiered, then backtracked, statement pouring from her lips. "Yes," returned the voice of smoked baritones, a luminiferous stare peering back in muted curiousity to the features of this enigma; of his blood she was, but from who? Names sprung to mind, but it contained a plethora - some fit, others not, but he was scarcely closer to his answer. The only woman of his bloodline he thought likely to bear young would have been Cassiopeia, unless the bastard half-brother had clutched the teekon like a weed to rear his spawn. Unlikely, he mused. 

"Your mother. Cassiopeia?" A bold assumption, an educated guess - though perhaps luck might favour him tonight.

his face brings to light a dim memory, smells, blurred faces. nothing concrete, and yet he was there; the man confirms it himself. his next question receives a slight cant of her ears, a stilling of her curiosity, wariness. "yes." she answers, just as plainly as he. "she is dead now." her mother; star-speckled night; beloved daughter, once, father-killer, once. these titles, things, will go forever unknown to her. she is only a shadow, a dim memory of warmth and milk and that striking image of unseeing eyes.

"you knew her." she establishes, wanting, needing to know what he does, and at once entirely unwilling to ask.

"Yes."

Confirmation; to which a silvered chin inclined. It made sense, and no dim flicker of surprise bloomed in the slayer's chest - if he had been fazed, it would have been cloaked to the eye, invisible. Nor did her divulgence of death bring disturbance to his stomach, for he'd made the assumption already - only one revelation sprung forth from upturned secrets, spread free from charcoal lips at the girl's final acknowlegement.

"My sister." Aries revealed, pools of luminsescence studying his niece in silence.