As she trudged through the snow, Velyre bared her teeth in a grimace.

Her paw stung from a fresh cut and the bitter cold. She remembered the bite of the knife that had inflicted it, but not the words on her tongue. Nor the voice that answered. It was responsible for bringing her here, she knew; beyond that, little else, besides her growing frustration.

She limped along a narrow, shallowed trail. Other—other beasts had passed through here. But even beasts had their own order, she was learning. She had heard whispers of a place she might find safety and rest, in exchange for services.

Services, she could provide. The only trouble was bloody getting there.

“The fuck does this mean,” Velyre grumbled at a stick decorated with a fish skeleton. It was a sign post, clearly, and if she had been in a patient mood, she could have deduced it pointed in the direction of water of some sort; but for the moment, she was too cold to be anything besides irritable.

---

hoping for someone from the Howff!

Times like this are dark, dismal even. Mir walks with the gloom surrounding her. It's been a year since the dreams started, and how long since being granted her new body? She's not certain. She doesn't count the days anymore. She's an adult now, even if part of her misses the days of her youth. She should see if Fiora ever made it back to Elysium, but what would she say after so long? And would Fiora even believe her, that she walked in a new body?

Today, she seeks what little supplies she can eke out. The Howff has a manner of attracting chaos, and when she smells blood on the tracks, she supposes she shouldn't be surprised. She follows the bloody footprints to their natural end: a wolf she doesn't recognize. Instinct says to strike fast and hard, but that contradicts the point of the Howff, doesn't it? The Howff welcomes people, and Mir supposes more people to know of her miracle work wouldn't hurt.

"It's a sign," she says, keeping her posture neutral. "I have heard such things are common in lands beyond our dream."

Standing and staring at the signpost didn't make anything clearer. All it did was remind her of the ache and exhaustion in her thin limbs, the unpleasant trickle of melting snow on her fur, and the half-scabbed pain in her paw. The wound had reopened during her trek. Bloody hell, she'd kill for a bandage at this point.

I know what a sign is, Velyre growled back irritably, turning around. Her dark eyes widened as it occurred to her that she was not, in fact, alone; and that this stranger might be just who she needed to find. Or she might be the one to sink her fangs into her neck and end her life. Either worked, she supposed.

You know where this leads? she asked, peering at her cautiously. I'm looking for the Howff.

Mir flicks an ear placidly. "You are asking what it is, are you not?" She's used to people in pain being testy. Warmth is not Mir's strong suit, but she can keep a professional face. "I never saw such a thing until the Howff." Supposedly a lot of the Howff's inventions are from ways that are not entirely wolf. It's curious, really, how different the worlds everyone comes from are so very different. Mir must study them all.

With a dip of her great head, Mir turns towards the path. "The Howff is this way. You will be expected to pay, of course." She swishes her tail. "I am Doctor Pirogov. You talk to Myna for payment, but I treat the injured here."

Velyre mulled over the larger she-wolf's words. Hm. So she was an ordinary beast, then? Unlike herself—but then she introduced herself as doctor. Her eyes widened in momentary surprise. Doctor! A woman, doctor? In her time it had been unthinkable. Fitting, she thought, that beasts should be more civilized than men. Still, this introduced a new wrinkle in her plan: if the Howff already possessed a doctor, would they have need of her?

I can treat my own injury. I just need supplies, Velyre said, limping after Dr. Pirogov. I came here to offer my services. I am...

She hesitated.

...a healer. Yes, that was a neutral way of putting it. Oh, but she would have liked to be a doctor—if anyone had permitted her.