The Heartwood aupaqtuq ⏜

The entire forest was draped in monochrome grays, black, and sparkling white, and so Lane's present company blended seamlessly into the scenery. It was the shift of movement that drew the yearling's attention.

"Hol-?"

She started speak, but stopped as soon as the sight registered. The moon-pelted stranger was quite obviously not Holland, not even close. Lane marveled at how she had managed to keep the soot off of her gleaming white coat-- you'd have thought that the surrounding filth would be attracted to that fur like a magnet.

She had clearly been busy, eating or chewing on whatever she had in her lap. Her malachite eyes now peered at Lane.

"Uh, sorry. Didn't mean to intrude." Lane took a tentative step back, ready to leave the woman at peace, if that's what she requested.