The scent of unknown wolves began to wane the further they traveled, much to Faeline's relief. The last thing she desires was a confrontation with some stranger.

For the time being, she left Rhydian disregarded to take time for herself—he was more than capable of being alone for a while, she was certain. Faeline was still processing the vast land of ice that she'd found herself in. Was this all some strangely elaborate dream? In the back of her mind, the thought still smoldered. But she couldn't dwell on that. There were far more serious tasks at hand.

The ivory figure weaved past the dense woodlands of conifers, her pace slowing to a halt only at the sight of a river. Wide in girth, with turbulent waters so violent that the arctic dame didn't dare step into its currents. Instead, she stood at the riverbank, heeding the meandrous water's low moans resonating against the foreign valley.

She dipped her haunches to sit. Silver eyes inspected her surroundings, watching for anything—or anyone—who may leap out with an ambush. She was well familiar with the ways of living in such frozen wastelands. It was to eat or to be eaten. To kill or be killed.

It was in her childhood, anyway. Faeline turned to her front with an austere frown, though the erratic movements of her ears told of a refusal to let down her guard, and the perpetual state of awareness.

skill: n/a

---

Larken had sought to expand her knowledge of this place, she had recovered from her untimely fall into Mythris and since rebuilt her strength. And now; ever curious as her feet were they carried her far and wide, determined to explore and find what wonders this place had to offer. She bobbed and weaved, limbs carrying her with reckless abandon as she ran through the snowdrifts, sending flurries flying her teal eyes were alight with excitement.

It was such a different terrain than her homeland, snow replaced sand, and the mountains towered much larger on the horizon. The forests were thick and there wasn't anything prickly to be found here; though she found the pine needles could catch in your fur they were far more forgiving than cacti thorns.

But it was also cold. And this much she didn't like, and while running was extremely freeing; it also kept her blood pumping and kept her warmer.

However; it ALSO meant, she didn't see the snow chameleon as she came barreling through the trees. By the time Larkens brain registered that she was there and tried to put the brakes on was a skirting mess through the snow, rump tucked as she slid - likely right into the other woman to send them both toppling.

---

❝ speech ❞
notes:

Faeline heard the pattering of feet long before she felt the force of someone colliding with her pelt. Alarms blared in her head to brace herself as the footfalls grew louder and louder—yet the woman failed to catch herself regardless of her instincts' warnings, sending her toppling into the snow. Her chin hit the ground with a soft grunt. The moment she could regain her composure, her limbs hoisted her body back up, and her head whirled around to face the stranger.

The girl seemed younger. Smaller. Cloaked in soft, light-brown fur that was short, light, silken in texture. She wasn't built for the frigidity as Faeline was. Not to mention, she wasdangerously close to the rapidly-flowing river. With little thought, Faeline pressed her head forward to grasp the youth's tan scruff between rows of sharp teeth. She clamped the skin firmly, yet as gently as she could, as she hoisted her away from the edge of the water.

The moment they were both a comfortable distance from the shoreline, Faeline's lips pursed in solemn anger. You'd best watch where you're going! Her voice was callous, stern, laden with worry as harrowing thoughts entered her mind of what would've transpired if she'd fallen in the water. You are most certainly not built for that. A flick of her muzzle gestured to the waterway. If I hadn't been here to stop your fall, what would've happened?