Duskfire Glacier where do you go? oh, where do you stay?
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#1
All Welcome 
She had tucked herself away in the medic den for most of the day. Organizing what herbs might have been laid within the cavern cover and making sure everything was right. For what? For anything.

They were settled into spring and she wondered if that meant children soon, perhaps. If Wintersbane might take someone or one of the other woman might find themselves pregnant among outsiders. Perhaps even Rye might bed.

Children aside, what if further injuries occurred? What if someone became injured in a hunt or scuffled on their fresh borders?

Iana felt inclined to be fully prepared for all and any of it.

So her days became full of work. Not something she would have ever imagined, but it was work she was happy to do. Yet at night she had found herself restless. The nagging sensation that not everything was done. That there was still more work to be done or that she had forgot something important.

Carefully she crept out towards the icefield. Hopeful that it might jog her memory on what was so pressing or that it might ease her worries long enough to slumber.
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#2
The two piebalds, though different in appearance, were quite similar by their natures. Healers at heart, oft plagued by tediousness or sleeplessness. It was not for the same reasons that she found herself upon the fields of ice, for the shepherd had been suffering thoughts of her last son, but it was where the two happened to find themselves all the same.

With a whispering noise of greeting, the fluffy cur moved to trot up to the wren's side and fall in place with her nimble pawsteps -- tropical gaze of seaglass finding her companion's spring optics of peridot with a glint of familiar warmth. 
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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#3
There was no mistaking who it was that had drawn near, even in the cover of night. The tiny presence of Imaq was felt greatly. Iana slowed on her pace, almost a creeping stroll at that point.

Carefully she craned her neck, delicately aiming to nip at one floppy ear. She was not sure how it would be received but it was meant to be out of...affection. She had grown fond of her fellow healer. Charmed by her knowledge of things far from what Iana had ever heard.

Come? She invited with a swish of her tail.
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#4
"Aya," the halfbreed agreed in a wisp of her natal tongue, mirthful eyes crinkling at the corners with a bashful smile as the Gamma nipped at one canine aud in camaraderie. The cur allowed her own splotchy, marbled nose to reach out and brush against the other healer -- catching a whiff of crisp herb-scent and something softer, almost floral. (The she-dog had never smelled citrus before and was only vaguely familiar with the idea of fruit, thus she failed to pinpoint the odor of peaches in the wren's silky peltage.)

"What Iana doing?" Imaq questioned lightly, glancing to the other woman as they strolled slowly through the snow -- not quite patrolling but not quite idle either. There was a gentle implication there beneath her words, one typical of her speech, that hinted at hesitancy -- hoping to let Iana know that she needn't answer if it was something personal. 
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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#5
There was temptation to pull the woman closer when she reached back out. Momentarily she lifted a foreleg to drape it over her, before removing it almost just as soon. She didn't wish to overwhelm her fellow medic with a bloom of affection for her. So she did what she did best. Lulled and composed herself.

I could not sleep. She informed softly. Such a funny thing to say. She had hardly ever struggled with sleep her whole life. Now...now it eluded her in such a feverish way. I figured a trip to the icefield might do me good. See the lights and clear my head. A hum of a thought at the end.

What of you?
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#6
Imaq smiled, somewhat nervously, never having been presented with the option of a female partner, she mistook the move for one of dominance. But just as quickly as the wren settled a featherlight limb over the medicine woman's shoulders, it was gone. Seelie pinned her ears regardless, offering a playful nip to the woman's chin to cement the other healer's place as her higher-up in their tribe's hierarchy.

"Imaq the same," she sighed softly, with the hint of a co-conspirator in her smile of kinship. A thought occurred to her then: "We go see the lights, Imaq teach Iana about Nunaat?"

cute lil bebes. just to clarify, this is in reference to Iana wanting to learn more about Imaq's culture.
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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#7
Birds of a feather...

I would like that. Honest, with a thin smile. Iana had much to learn of her healing partner, the knowledge she held was fancy and foreign. Enriched with a culture that Iana could not even dream of.

She had plenty of questions to ask, naturally, but she assumed that Imaq would pick the best place to start when they arrived. Perhaps they could find somewhere hidden to nest with their stories.
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#8
so, i kinda just realized that Imaq is Gamma... XD I think at the time this thread was posted though, Iana was still higher up in the ranks than Imaq so im just gonna forgo editing bc im lazy lol.
 

The golden merle pattered alongside the feather-thin wisp of creamed coffee, tufted paws well suited to traversing through the layers of snow and ice despite the fact that her blotched skin still tingled faintly with its biting chill. "Some things...good. Nunaat not always good. Hard place to be home." It seemed only fair that she warn her companion, it was a beautiful land to the she-dog -- steeped in rich tradition as well. But it was not a land that favored women, or at least not those of Imaq's ilk. 

When the splotchy duo had crested over the horizons of the glacial plane -- a vast stretch of virgin white in the night, lit in marbled pastels by the lights that played amongst the stars -- Tupilak would reach out to bump her softened snout against Iana's shoulder of pale gold. She gestured to a cluster of black pines some several yards to their right, thinking it might be a good place to dig snowbeds and settle down to conserve their warmth. 



"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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#9
You would be correct! Iana was Gamma before the shuffle.

Oh, She breathed softly. Why hard? Or would you rather...avoid that? She would wholeheartedly accept it if the foreign medic wished to focus on the good.

She followed the herding from her companion, inclined to go wherever she went. It is beautiful here. A soft observation as she stole glances between Imaq and the icefield that came alive with such brilliant colors. Iana's attention seemed to shatter tonight. Scattered in a million different places.
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#10
"Is okay," the cur reassured with a gentle smile of gratitude as they moved to shelter within the small grove of trees, displaced from the rest of the treeline on the fringes of the open white plains. "Is just...hard place for women," the she-dog tried to explain without going too deeply into the sordid details of the harsh life the wolves of Greenland led.

"Food is little. Sun is little. No warmth. No life," Imaq told her. "Family is survival. Kalallit. Men are raised strong, to be brothers always. They share wives, raise their young in one large group. But this means father wolf will arrange the marriages for his children," Imaq gave a tiny shrug, obviously accustomed to this tradition though it seemed to be considered greatly unorthodox in these lands. 

The dove hummed a soft note of agreement, watching the colors dance in the wind for a moment before turning to Iana. "In Nunaat, Imaq dance with the lights. Imaq and all the mothers. Sisters too." Even if they hadn't been fond of their canine sister, it was still a womens' tradition to dance together with the spirits. She considered the other, willow-curve piebald quietly for a moment. "Iana want learn?"
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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#11
It sounded so deeply unpleasant and yet the culture seemed so rich, if Imaq was any sign of such. Arranged marriages she had heard of but...everything else seemed so odd. Such a scarcity of everything and sharing of partners. Had that been arranged for her fellow healer before she had arrived her? It felt too personal to ask right now. Especially as Imaq sought to educate Iana. Questions could come after, perhaps.

Then came a tidbit that seemed grand. Whimsical, really.

To dance with the lights. To dance with the lights and Imaq. Such an idea filled her with some sort of giddiness.

Yes. Please. A slight wiggle to her hips as her tail swished behind her. Please teach me to dance with lights.
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#12
Imaq gave a feather-soft chuckle at the other piebald's enthusiasm, standing and giving a little shake of her fluffy pelt to free the powdering of snow she'd accumulated. The wolfdog gestured for her fellow healer to stand as well, beckoning with her spotted muzzle as she pranced back a few paces to stand beneath the light of the moon and its accompanying ribbons of borealis. 

When Iana had joined her, the Waterwitch slowly began to weave and twist -- paws whispering a silent tune as her body began to wave with the undulating lights in a strange rhythm. Never once did her paws trace the same pattern, fluid and ever-changing like the lights in the sky.
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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#13
Iana was not as smooth in movement.

Where Imaq twisted in a unique pattern each time, Iana held a rhythm. Attempted to follow along to a song that did not have a certain beat. Who could blame her though? This was her first time dancing.

Regardless, a soft laughter bubbled up in her chest when she felt as thought her paws would tangle within themselves. How did Imaq move so flawlessly? Perhaps because this was not her first time, unlike the other healer.

You are good at this, Murmured a bit breathlessly.
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#14
"Iana good too," she encouraged in a bright chuckle, feeling a welling of warmth in her chest like the spray of Sedna's waves racking the cliffs -- though lacking in the arctic bite of the mists that Imaq so missed. It had been too long since she danced with another, danced with the lights.

"Kalallit dance to honor the ancestors. The spirits, the inua, that belong in everything," she continued to explain as they danced, a soft magick cast over the pair beneath the pallor of the moon. Imaq felt, for the first time, that perhaps the Glacier truly was in reach of Nunaat's spirits.
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."
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#15
Can wrap this up in your reply, if you'd like :)

She could not tell if there was a heat in her face from the words or the movements. Both, perhaps.

We should do this more then. For your spirits. She offered with warm encouragement. Still attempting to keep up in her messy pattern of dancing. Perhaps it would get easier the longer they kept at it, the more they did it.
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#16
Her gaze flitted to the wren's jadestone orbs, her breath momentarily hitching as she was suddenly captivated by the way the piebald moved, the bounce of her pelt like the sweep of a curtain of pale hair, the lights undulating over her willow frame. Something in her chest warmed, not unlike the flush that filled her cheeks.

"Imaq like that," she wisped, having to swallow to get the words out.
"...and all around was the bitter arctic cold and the immense silence of the North..."