Bitterroot Valley a green truck hummed low

Friede finished placing the stones and stepped back to begin her prayer: O High Elk, bring me food or whatever. I’m not particular, but yeah, food would be nice. She peeked open an eye to see if the fabled creature might be near, though there was only a small, sickly squirrel.

OK, thanks, she sneered to Him, before moving into position to begin her hunt. The squirrel appeared submissive to her act, as though giving silent permission to be killed; one request with which she could, and would not argue.

*Cha cha slides into thread*

Cynefrid had eventually dragged herself to a towering, open valley of rather impressive heights. It was quite a task to make it this far considering the limp in her right leg that inhibited her from obtaining any proper balance while walking — and those ghastly burn marks that had been seared to her flank during the fire was the reason why. The she-wolf pondered for a while on whether she could use the strange pink blossoms that littered the ground as some sort of paste to help with the persistent pain, but Cyne knew better than to touch random plants from strange lands she had yet to come accustomed to.

Ever since fleeing from her now destroyed homelands to run towards safety, furrowed brows of worry looked to be permanently plastered onto her soft features ever since. Concern for her fellow packmates in Kingslend festered in her chest and she yearned to find them once more. Are they safe? Were they harmed from the fire like she was? If so, Cyne wanted find and take care of them as soon as possible. 'Oh High Elk, please lead me towards those who I've been separated from....'

The fawn-colored damsel's aimless trotting came to an abrupt stop when she sniffed the air and noticed a familiar scent nearby. Had the High Elk answered Cyne's prayers and lead her towards the rest? In an attempt to see if such a thing was true, Cynefrid called out to the one she believed this scent belonged to. "Friede...Friede dear, is that you?". She was not sure if her senses were obscured since the fire or if there was even a wolf belonging to the fragrance, but the femme was desperate to at least find someone who'd survived.

Her company was noticed by the squirrel before Friede herself. It scurried away as fast as one could, given its current state, leaving her with no other distraction but the woman behind her.

Friede’s jaw hung low with a continuous gasp as she tried to remember the woman’s name. Oh, my, goodness! Girl, it’s so good to see you! She scrunched her nose and sneered, then leaned slightly to the side for a better look at her former packmate’s burns.

Another gasp came though with a more genuine shift of expression. You look really bad, Friede said, Does that hurt? She’d been lucky enough to make it out relatively unscathed, unlike Cynefrid.

It was her...

Cynefrid's tail would wag in both relief and excitement — she was able to find at least one other member of Kingslend that was still alive and kicking. Her attention briefly shifted to a small squirrel shuffling away through the grasses but, not knowing the context of it's presence, paid little mind to it and continued towards the similarly colored she-wolf.

While approaching, Cyne took note of Friede's snide expression and tone, but wasn't too attentive towards it and simply breathed what sounded like a small hum in response. The doe already knew that Friede wasn't exactly the kindest of the bunch, but she was still a member of Kingslend regardless. A part of her home in Cyne's eyes — even if the two knew little about each other familial wise.

In response to her mention of Cynefrid's wound, she'd turn to face her flank with a frown. "Unfortunately, yes. It would appear as though I did not make it through the disaster without a painful reminder of its existence, but I've faired quite well along the way despite that..." she turned back to Friede with a warm smile, observant that the fae was not as physically affected by the fire. "I am just grateful you seemed to have escaped the disaster unscathed. Perhaps, you've come across any others? If they are harmed, I must tend to them immediately..." Cynefrid asked with her warm smile now turning into a more serious expression. She lifted her crown to sniff out the air before Friede could answer. If the fae had encountered another along the way, it could mean that other members of her pack wouldn't be as dispersed as notioned.

Most of the Déorwine wolves were weird. Friede grew up around them and knew this, but sometimes, they were still able to catch her off-guard with their weirdness. You don’t think...you should treat yourself first? she asked, I promise, no one is worse off than you are right now. Her words still had a rude undertone but if nothing else, she did mean to be at least vaguely considerate.

Anyway, she didn’t know of any other wolves nearby that had come from their home. Have you seen anyone? Friede wondered aloud.

"Ah....I suppose you're right. I can't treat the others if I'm in no such state to do so..." Cynefrid had been so preoccupied with the reassemblence of the rest of Kingslend that the limp in her leg had still gone untreated — how irresponsible. Friede was right. There was no way she'd go far with an injury such as this, ecspecially if it got infected.

'Have you seen anyone?' 
a look of melancholic despondency crossed the damsel's features when Friede asked the same question that crossed her mind. Seems as though her search for the rest of the pack was going to be more trying than expected. "I'm afraid not...you're the only one I've encountered ever since the fire, dear. Though I'm guessing that means you haven't found anyone else either...." Cyne's voice audibly trailed off in the midst of her dissapointment. There was no way the High Elk only sent Cynefrid & Friede to these lands — it just didn't add up. But there was only one way to find out where the others were: "Let's try splitting up in order to find the others. Since we both found ourselves in this very same area, it shouldn't be too hard to find you again if all else fails, right?" After all, there was no smoke to mask Friede's nor any other's scent trail like there was several weeks ago. The plan was simple: Search for the others and stop every now and clean her wound to slow down the infection. That way, Cyne could have more time to focus on the patients she encounters.

Yo sorry if this kinda sucks since I was trying to figure out what to write next T^T

I feel your struggle.

Blah, blah...All that Friede gathered from their conversation was that Cynefrid had come to scare off her lunch and then leave. It was a fair trade off (she could go find the squirrel again after their conversation) but still, a major inconvenience.

She responded to the proposal with a firm nod then began walking the squirrel’s trail. Friede probably wouldn't linger here for too long but, whatever.

Lmao I love Friede

The fawn colored femora smiled and nodded back to the yellow eyed damsel — she was happy that they'd agreed, and this allowed Cynefrid to continue on with her plan. "Stay safe while I'm gone Friede. Hopefully on your way, you can find Bliss and Haywood as well!" She cooed breifly while skittering away.. Cyne knew all about the trio and how they always seemed to obsess over Calhoun and Cenric. While she couldn't understand exactly why, the dame eventually came to the conclusion that they were just young and easily wooed by good-looking faces. Cynefrid had been their age too, so it was an understandable occurrence to have a good laugh at.