Whitebark Stream Her secrets still like songs I'd never learned.

@Kaori, one for you!

The news of Salvatore's illicit mating had bothered him for a time, and he felt torn between shielding this secret and reporting it to his mate. Artyom didn't wish to upset the balance in Whitebark ranks by sticking his nose into business where he did not belong, a move that would likely result in resentment. More than that, it felt wrong to keep such information from Dawn. He decided that he would wait a week or two, give Sal and his mystery she-wolf the opportunity to come clean themselves and if they did not, the ranger would have to inform their sterling Alphess.

Snow came in a some flurry that afternoon as the gilded wolf weaved through the foliage where their land bordered the maplewood, using this time to contemplate and refresh their markers. He trailed a shoulder along rugged and lifted a hind limb to deposit urine as he went, though his thoughts remained with his pack-mates and what could be an uncertain future for them.

I present to you: a phone post. Tag for reference

Whilst the male strengthened their scent markers from within, Kaori lingered in the outskirts. Since the fading of her heat, the dragoness grew restless; wandering through the territories near to them, using her exploration as a distraction. Since that day, she was yet to seek a meeting with @Salvatore again, mildly embarrassed and unable to think of what she might even say. Perhaps it was her worries, too, that kept her on the move. But she could scout the lands adjacent to them for only so long before a return was necessary, and today she decided it was time.

Upon her return, she held gently within her maw leaves; they were few in number, the winter having stripped nearly all from the trees, and a little worse for wear. And although she could not be certain of their potency, given the condition they were in, she felt she could not return without something to show for her visit to the Maplewood. But her quiet return was hindered by the appearance of another, a guardian of the borders. Wishing not to appear rude, she chuffed to alert him of her being there once she was within earshot.

When Artyom spotted a raven figure slink through the foliage, he did his best to pretend he didn't see her. Assuming her to be the wolf-dog who'd vomited at his paws, he carried on with his refreshing of their territory markers; he was in no mood to provoke her with cheerful conversation again.

Only when her gaze found him and she emitted a soft chuff to announce her presence did the blonde ranger point his snout in her direction. Ears forward and dark eyes searching, he was surprised that this particular wolfess was not Bhediya. Relief, then. Artyom's expression softened, and he welcomed the obsidian dragoness to him with a friendly sweep of his tail.

"Hello," he answered, "my name is Artyom. What is yours?"

Well-received, she continued towards him until near enough to speak, then settled there; the leaves were gently deposited onto the ground and a single paw made to rest atop them, keeping them there. Satisfied with the security provided, she turned her attention back towards the male. “Hello,” she said first, tail swaying lazily. “My name is Kaori. I was one of those to come with Bhediya.” Whether he knew this already or not, she couldn’t be certain; truthfully, she was yet to socialise with too many others, especially those that were first to claim to the stream. But, whether he was aware of this or not, she saw no harm in repeating it, if only to ensure she not be mistaken for a trespasser.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” was said next, manners remembered after wandering thoughts were reined back in. “Were you patrolling? I apologise if I have interrupted you.” Was it more rude to interrupt someone during a task at work, or to continue on ignoring them and risk being spied doing so? This she could not answer for herself, not knowing the male well enough to determine where his own views resided.

Kaori, she said, one of Bhediya's wolves. For a moment he wondered if the raven wolf-dog had puked at anyone else's paws, or if her bitterness had been directed solely toward him. The thought was fleeting, however, as he mustered a bright smile to accompany the polite dip of his crown.

"Likewise," he told her, hopeful that she and her comrades had managed to integrate themselves among those already established at Whitebark. "Don't worry, you're not interrupting. How are you finding life by the stream?"

Assured that she was not interrupting anything, she relaxed. It seemed their conversation could continue, encouraged along by a question; she did not answer immediately, considering her response carefully. “I feel like I could get to know the others here a bit better,” she explained after a pause. “And I do not think I will ever stop missing the lair.” It was more to her than a place to live, it was home. It was where her story began, where her mother once felt comfortable enough to protect and raise her young at. Those aspects of the lair could not be so easily looked past, likely to follow her to the end of the Earth.

But... “But I do enjoy being here,” she continued, a smile tugging at her lips. “It is peaceful and those I have met are kind.” Should her season produce fruit, she felt it would be a pleasant home to raise her hatchlings in.

Artyom could appreciate the reluctance to leave one's home, though never really understood an attachment to a place. He had loved the frozen deserts of his birth and the clear views of the night sky, of the dancing Aurora Borealis throughout the colder seasons - but his difficulties truly lay with saying goodbye to Timiryazevskaya's wolves, not its land. They were what made it a home to Artyom, Ana more so than anyone else.

He knew that, if Dawn were to request that he accompany her beyond their Whitebark Stream to setthe elsewhere, he woold follow without question. Her happiness was a priority to him and if their land could no longer provide that, then it made sense to seek it elsewhere.

It was just dirt and trees, after all. And the world was full of those.

"I am glad to hear that," he concluded the matter, content to know that she was making an effort to better acquaint herself with new pack-mates. He turned attention instead to the leaves Kaori held firmly beneath a dark paw, and asked: "what do you plan to do with these?"

Perhaps, over time, she would learn to distance herself from her attachment to the lair; not forget it—she would never forget it—but learn to better exist beyond the safety it once provided. For the time being, however, she could at least distract herself. Exploring the lands and speaking with others—she used these tasks to keep her mind occupied, allowing room for a fondness of the stream to develop. A fondness to nurture, a fondness to grow.

When the focus was directed towards her leaves, she glanced down at them. Overall, they were fairly sad-looking but, given the season, she could find none better. She only hoped that they would still be of use, should she dry them out and store them appropriately. “Store them,” she answered, looking back at him. “The maple leaves can help you feel calm. And these”—she pointed her nose towards the birch leaves—“can help with urinary infections.” The latter was likely to be less useful than the former but, given that they were there to be taken, she couldn’t just leave them behind. “My mother always kept a supply of herbs around, just in case they may be needed,” she explained. “I intend to do the same.” And as the weather grew warmer, perhaps she may even travel further, seeking more hard-to-find plants.

Kaori's intention was to store her find away, and his initial thoughts to follow were of the odd Kora and her knowledge of fauna. She had certainly been an unsettling creature, Artyom had concluded from their first encounter, and although she'd been pleasant enough to him he was certain that he didn't want to end up on her hit list.

He wondered if this dark she-wolf held a fondness for using dark potions to her advantage, but held onto that considecoration. It was hardly polite to ask it of her: "hey, I don't suppose you like poisoning your own kind?"

"So you're a healer?" Artyom opted to say instead, gaze lifting from her antibiotic leaves to eagerly await a response; if ever he suffered, he would be sure to seek out Kaori before trusting Kora with his health.

The baseline reasoning for her desire to collect was obvious, she thought—yet his words made him question that. There were few reasons to retrieve plants, after all, so what exactly did he think she might do with them? Rather than answering a question with one of her own, she opted to say, “Yes, I am a healer.” Whilst her mother surely knew more than Kaori, she hoped to someday harbour the same, vast knowledge of the flora. Someday, there would be not a single ailment presented to her that she could not cure, she wanted to believe.

“This season is not kind to those of us that seek out the plant life,” she noted. “But, come spring, I will be of more use.” With the warm weather, there would come more plants—more herbs to collect, to store for safekeeping. And whilst she did not wish for any of her packmates to get injured, she felt confident in her ability to help them, should it happen.

Kaori seemed to hide her confusion over Artyom's question well enough, and so he offered a bright smile as she went on to confirm his suspicion. "Ah," he laughed then, a little awkwardly as he thought back on his encounter with the other she-wolf of Whitebark's ranks to hold interest for flora, "have you met Kora? She, too, appreciates the offerings of the plants - though in a more... curious nature."

His tongue traced an upper lip, and his tail gave an awkward twitch as he considered his words carefully. Artyom liked young Kora well enough despite the discomfort that came with their first meeting, and it was not his intention to tar her name.

The name of another was offered, in response to which the dragoness tilted her head. “Kora?” she repeated, questioningly to assure she heard correctly. “I do not believe I have met her yet, no.” Or, if she had, they had not exchanged names—but, even considering that possibility, she could not easily recall the last time she met with someone and did not leave with their name. She was curious of the other, naturally, and even more so after the male spoke further of her.

“What would you describe as being of curious nature?” asked the Draconid, interest growing. The word choice was noticeably careful—but still as if he wanted her to ask more, and so the young woman obliged.

"Kora favours plants that might be used as defense," he rolled a shoulder, feeling a little awkward to discuss the pale wolfess' confessed trickery. "You know, poisons and such." He laughed, clearly uncomfortable, though he wanted to be certain that Kora's knowledge of more deadly flora could be useful.

He waved his dense ivory tail, canted his muzzle curiously. "Sorry," he shot the dragoness an apologetic smile, "she is actually very nice, just a bit... unusual."