Skill: Vagabond [1/5]
Eclus

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Leisurely sauntering was... all she could do, at this point. Not a moment passed where Citlali would not wish that she could see the world behind her—the birds which sang, the critters who frolicked... the she-wolf sighed to herself, her head dipping down to her paws, as though she were gazing down at them. They were sodden with morning dew, stained with a slight green from the lush turf. She didn't know.

All Citlali knew now was that it was night. It has been night for a long time now; perhaps dawn drew near. The sun had yet to cast its golden rays across the ground, yet to glare in her sightless eyes, make her head pound with strain.

That was plenty to her. Citlali paused where the earth dipped into a small ditch. Perhaps there was once a pond here, or merely a puddle; all she cared was that as she coiled her body, she slotted in perfectly with the indent, her body pressed into the cool ground comfortably. Grass tickled her nose, intertwining with her long, silken fur. A soft embrace, one graciously accepted with a nestle against the vibrant strands.

she will bring home elk or caribou tonight. and perhaps, if luck has her side, svalla will share a meal with her. they have spoken little since their reunion. things are not the same between them, there is some distance she cannot seem to cross. svalla is hiding from her again, and the notion enrages her.

were they both still children, she'd have challenged her chief to a spar. knocked her down again and again 'till she relented and admitted just what was on her mind.

instead she skulks off alone, branches and dry grasses snapping in her wake. lip curls, both to taste the air and express silent displeasure. she kicks at a stone and watches it dance across the ground— straight into something warm and alive. an ear flicks in her direction, nostrils flaring to drink in the stranger's scent.

female. eclus relaxes a little, bristling fur smoothing, but steps no closer.

"...you are not caribou." a joke, maybe, laced with just a hint of irritation.

Skill:—[1/5]

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Citlali was dozing off by this point—she hadn't heard the footsteps. She couldn't even feel them—the one other way she could foresee the approach of another.

She simply felt the stone against her side and raised her head. Was that the work of nature, nothing more than the rock tumbling down the ridge? Or was that... a pointed attempt to get her attention?

There was not a long time to speculate—the voice rang out, a lilt carrying something between mockery and jest. Citlali jolted against the ground, swiftly rising, ears twisting in desperation to pinpoint who on earth had just said that.

...caribou? she parroted with a breath. Her heartbeat was swift with skepticism. Do I look like one? Her head tilted. She'd never seen caribou. Even if she could see, they were certainly not animals who grazed in the prairies. Not in the south, as she had.

A feathery tail swiftly swept to and fro against her hocks. A nervous movement. One that spoke of the desire for peace along with an aversion to violence that she prayed the other would share.