Skill:

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The evening was silent.

There was a heaviness that surrounded Tiberii as she moved, despite the softness of the air and the playfulness of the flurries of snow that danced around her. It was a strange dichotomy — her stillness and heft meshing with the colorful flurry of delicate, dancing squalls.

But with a suddenness, she was drawn ... almost in an extracorporeal way, for she did not even notice the shift in the directionality of her paws. It was with an empty mind that she strode, unwillingly moving toward the base of a glittering tree. Her citrine eyes would dance, poking at the stoic exterior and softening her lips into a smile as she made her way through the snow toward the tree's base ... where a bundle of furs sat rather innocently.

Tiberii's nostrils flared.

Slowly ... slowly ... she she would lower her head toward the pile, noting the way in which it wiggled and moved. It was almost as if something ... was ... inside of it? It was hard to tell, but there was the soft richness of earth mixing with the cool crisp of snow.

And then it honked.

It honked and honked and did not stop.

Tiberii's eyes widened, her head shifting back a few inches as the small avian erupted from beneath the supply of goods. The little thing was half stuck, and despite the relentless noise, Tiberii would gently take her jaws to remove part of the pelt from his tiny little head, revealing the goose to the world for the first time.

She blinked, making very intentful eye contact.

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Skill:

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For a few moments, it was quiet.

They looked at each other.

Wolf and goose. Goose and wolf.

Those beady little eyes were unwavering and unblinking. And Tiberii, for a few moments, felt like she was being scanned, as if those eyes could peer past her own and look deeper — how far was that goose looking? And what would he see?

Tiberii would blink as the honking once again broke the silence, the small little bird scuttling from the nest of treasures to compress its downy body into her forelimbs. Those little wings would flap, so tiny and precious and delicate, and Tiberii felt something inside of her melt. Of course, Tiberii didn't speak bird, but she certainly could relate to the power of the honk. And something about this little gosling, nested so sweetly beneath this tree of lights, seemed like it was meant for her.

A gift.

Oi, 'ello there little one, she said, finally speaking before taking a gentle paw to bring the gosling gently nearer. S'alright, she'd tell him, hoping to calm some of his fervor and flapping. What're ya doin' out 'ere, eh? She smiled before quickly stifling.

Her gaze would peer upward, wondering if anyone was around.

She was talking ... to a bird.

Was she expecting him to talk back or something?
Was she losing her mind?

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