Neverwinter Forest lxvi. never quite close enough to see your disguise

tags for reference

@Foxfur had not returned. Lótë did not know the man well and wasn't entirely sure what he'd gone looking for, yet his lacking presence within the village was enough to send her sweeping outwards in search of an explanation. 

Too many times had evil spirits afflicted those of Moonglow for the dove to remain fretless -- supposing some ill fortune had befallen the vulpine he-wolf as it had the spirit-bear. 

Lótë trekked east upon departing the Spine, combing through the great conifer woodland that lay in the shadow of their village's low ring of mountains. It seemed a likely place that one might shelter before returning home -- for the thick canopy held most of the snow aloft and trapped warmth within the muted world of pine. 

In the heart of the forest, there were half-collapsed signs of life -- old ulaqs crumbling with disuse. A former village, the doe surmised, but one that had been vacant for some time. There was no sign of Foxfur among any of the shattered warrens nor in the shallow cave systems tucked into the hills. 

There was only Lótë, the hintings of several herds that must frequent the territory, and the wind twisting in the pines. 

hope it is ok for me to snag this!

viorel walked north.

the days did not grow much warmer, but they thought that they had seen the worst of it. the flatlands stretched for miles, and they saw no one else, as though they had all been swallowed up in the snow. it was no surprise. winter was hungry, and it clung to what prey it could find.

it was a relief to find shelter at last.

the bite of the wind was not as sharp, and the further viorel ventured, the thicker the trees. quiet, as everything was in the snow. they were not so confident as to believe it entirely safe. their head remained lifted, muzzle unfurled from where it had pressed against their throat, and it was not for a long time that they smelled anything at all.

they were not hungry enough to bother with the deer, but a single wolf was something of another matter.

eyes narrowed thin against the cold, viorel weaved through the trees until they had sight of the woman in question. beneath the overhang of the nearest pine, they stopped, breathing smoke into the air.

“are you here to seek shelter?” they murmured. “or something else?”

perfectly fine, thanks for joining! :)

Lótë's gaze flitted to the woman as they appeared from between the trunks. She dipped her head to the exotic creature, recognizing that she was canid but not familiar with wolfdogs or their existence in the slightest. Even so, the dove had long grown accustomed to those with differences from herself. 

"I was searching for my village-brother. He is pale, draped in ginger with yellow eyes," the two-year murmured in answer. "Have you happened to see anyone of that description?"