.::Chessboard overturned.:: {Open}

[Pocket Kitsune]

How quickly the beauty of innocence is marred. Snowfall had graced the lands of Kalte with it's silent, vigilant reign for nearly a week without signs of falter or ceasing. The lives within such drifts erased, or muted at the edges--the accidental blur of lead upon crisp sheets of virgin paper. Winter was an ironic mistress in these lands. Her hand could be little more than a gentle press betwixt shoulder blades--unobtrusive and mericful. Or, like a royal of ill-temper and far worse breeding, hurl her goblet of ice at the far walls of will--so that both will and wolf shattered under her violent temper.

But the trailing train of her winter cloak of ermine and mink covered Kalte from peak to peak in a vision of elegant, nearly blinding--white. Perfect, untroubled, the snow shifting into fresh drifts that erased all else by the dawn. It should have been beautiful-and often would. But the illusion of purity this day shattered like ice beneath the heavy tread of paw.

Blood trailed a swath of vivid crimson across the vast canvas of white. At times, mere drips--scattered like misshapen rose petals, as if a procession of flower girls had tiptoed across the marbled surface of the tundra, their small fingers trailing false, but beautiful, heralds of spring. At others, the blood swathed the earth in great spirals and looping, messy splashes. Trenches from skidding paw and heavier bulk rent the snow like gaping scars, pale blue ringing their depths.

But the curtain did not open upon the scene of a band of wolves, flush and rife with the victory of a successful kill. No--the air hung with a grim, metallic scent, clashing utterly with the bitter scent of rage and giddy desperation that hung thick in the listlessly still air. And there, not more than five feet away, where the snow had begun to dull into a congealed and sluggish salmon, lay the body.


The crimson pelt fluttered as weakly as a waking child's lashes in the wind. A ragged banner of crimson warfare, cast down as it's proud warrior yielded to the pull of the inevitable. Here, then, lay the interloper who had, in life, gone by the calling of 'Roka.' A bitter feud and months upon months of seething hatred that had finally drawn to a grim conclusion indeed. As the sun rose, it seemed to hesitant at the crest of it's climb, hovering just behind the silvered peaks, as if uncertain of what to make of the scene that greated such a dawn.

For Aisling hovered above the body, her pelt of snow stained--crusted, in truth--in the same violent red. The blood of the fallen vixen coated her muzzle and ringed her eyes, and had her lips pulled away to reveal unguarded teeth, they, too, would have been awash in that once precious tide of life.

It cut a swath down the elegant, long expanse of her throat, and her chest alike. But not all of the blood was Roka's alone. There was a gaping blackness tinged red along the length of her body. Torn from shoulders to ribs and the underside of her frame, the ivory vixen had suffered her fair share of battle wounds. The flow that trickled from them had slowed now, but the damage was done.

Aisling swayed on her feet, overcome by a sweeping rush of vertigo. No brazen victory song rose from those chill, wind-nipped lips. She simply lacked the energy. Yet even had she, she felt nothing to compel her to do so. There was a bitter hollowness within her chest. Her enemy cast down, alone within the wilderness, her fate would likely soon match what had befallen Roka, and most likely, the former king of these lands as well.

Numb, and far too disoriented to seek shelter, Aisling took a few trembling limbed steps from the corpse of the red vixen, and gingerly cast her frame down. She did not attempt to curve her body closer to herself to conserve warmth--she was far too pained and weakened to do so. And so, with a soft breath and low sigh of a truly liberated spirit at long last, she shut her golden eyes and slept.





[Er, yeah. Since Roka left & deleted her account, I figured it'd be simpler to kill her off, as we had discussed this potentially happening before she quit.]

[Aspen]

A single figure slunk through the snow-capped trees, his paws treading the frosted ground with an aura of weary purpose. Anyone who observed Sudhir now would have the impression of a knight on some lost crusade; the truth was that the new alpha had nothing in particular to occupy him, no destination in mind. He simply paced on with boredom nipping at his heels, and perhaps a little loneliness too. In all honesty, Sudhir had not expected to be the sole occupant of the Kalte pack. Nor had he expected his sudden claim on the territory to go so unchallenged. But there was no one to fight, no leader to expel, no pack to guide. It seemed that he would have to start from scratch instead; a disheartening thought, for Sudhir had no interest in living months as a loner while he desperately scoured the forests for pack mates. Äther forbid, thought Sudhir, I’ll probably end up talking to myself.

Even so, he had little choice. So Sudhir pressed onwards, remarking boundaries that had no need yet of his attention and backtracking to scout out imaginary threats – empty actions, with nothing to protect. He had even taken a swooping detour earlier to track the scent of a snowshoe hare – a success, for the naïve young creature now hung limp in his jaws. It had been a perfect, clean kill. A snap of the neck, and no blood to speak of. But though he had stood for a moment, tail raised in pride, the kill was soon tainted with the knowledge that he had no one to feed. The alpha himself had not even been particularly hungry, and his howls continued to remain unanswered.

Huffing out a sigh through his clenched teeth, Sudhir padded closer to the edge a ravine, his keen eyes scouting out a possible path down the mountainside. The steady fall of snow had begun to weaken, and in this brief reprise he could just pick out the shapes of two bodies slumped against the stark white. His ears pricked. Definitely the most interesting occurrence the alpha had encountered in days. With a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat, Sudhir weaved his way down the slope.

Drawing nearer, the bodies seemed to coalesce into recognisable shapes for the first time. Wolves, not prey. Sudhir dropped the hare nearby, snorting and scraping his tongue against his teeth when some of the downy fur clung to the inside of his mouth. Ah. So this is where the pack went. he thought, his spirits dropping. The air was so thick with the scent of blood that Sudhir fancied he could almost taste it; that familiar, metallic tang. It made it rather difficult to catch a hint of any other potential danger. Sudhir’s lips pulled into a silent, discomforted snarl. With one final glance at the surrounding terrain, he prowled onwards, occasionally pausing to study the splattered arcs of blood with a detached interest, trying to recreate the struggle in his mind’s eye. The closest body was a she-wolf with an autumn-hued pelt, lying bedraggled in a slowly freezing pool of her own blood. He could tell that this one was already gone; no trace of breath, and stiffness in her limbs. Sudhir gave her a tentative nudge with his muzzle, just to make sure. Nothing.

He moved onto the second body, and almost froze in his tracks as he caught a hint of movement from the she-wolf’s side. Still clinging to life, are we? he thought. Excitement fluttered in his chest at the sight of the first breathing wolf he had seen in weeks. It seemed he was not the last in the pack after all. Sudhir pulled closer, reassured for the moment by the shallow, barely visible puff of breath that smoked in the bitter air. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He noticed too that the ugly gash along the she-wolf’s side had begun to clot, but all of these tantalizing signs of life would mean nothing if she continued to lie there as limp and unprotected as one of the pack’s kills. He felt a small swell of irritation that she had done nothing to conceal herself from the harsh weather; nothing to safeguard herself. Yes; her success in the fight had been a triumph, but to lie down afterwards in such defeat…

He let out a sharp sigh and cuffed the snow with his paw, sending a light shower of snow at the she-wolf’s face. Against the chill of Kalte, her time was strictly limited. If she did not get up soon, then Sudhir suspected that she would not rise at all. He tried again, this time delivering a sharp nip to her shoulder with the edge of his teeth – although not enough to draw any blood.

“Wake.” He told her, curtly, “This is no place for one to sleep.”

[Pocket Kitsune]

The subtle arc of snow from Sudhir's purposeful dash of his paw traced a constellation of snowfall, like wayward stars knocked from the skies, like so many ill-framed paintings suddenly caught by the sharp edge of a shoulder and parting from the wall. The snow flashed a silver-white brilliance as the sun's rays caught the spray, igniting it into an almost solar-flare brilliance. Minute flaws of silver stood out starkly against the white-ironic danake to pay for safe passage--striking the earth with the hollow laughter of the ferryman. The heavy sound drummed with a dull echo inside of Aisling's ears. Rain? came the fuzzy, disoriented thought, however fleeting. And then,Don't be absurd. It rarely rains in Kalte.

Sound was a slow companion to return to her. Everything was felt more than truly heard--faint vibrations that hummed along the fine hairs in her ears, translating to sound only sluggishly. Which is why she did not hear Sudhir's approach. Slowly, sensations returned to her stiff and abused body. The first thing she was aware of was the bitter cold. Like blade whose edged teeth were comprised of ice instead of steel, it combed through her snowy pelt with a grim and merciless air--slipping stealthily through her thick outer guard hairs and seeping into the vulnerable flesh underneath, like the slow progress of chilled honey.

Her muscles had long locked from the numbness that spread through them, and her underbelly stung and prickled with the cold where the ice touched it. The next thing she was aware of was the cloying, bitter taste of rust her her mouth. The taste of spoiled, old blood that had caked and then soured. This alarmed Aisling--how many hours--how many days--had she lain there? The she-wolf was suddenly furious with herself. Fool! she berated herself inwardly. Fool, fool, fool. What harm would it have done to have looked for shelter? As it was, the snow that coated her brindled back had been both a blessing, and a curse.

The heat of her body had intensified within the fine powder, and so she had not frozen to death. But the snow had also steadily sapped her of her blood, and its life giving warmth. And with it, her strength had also waned. Though death did not yet have her in its shadowed jaws, it soon would, if she couldn't bring herself to rise. No sooner had the thought formed in her mind, a sharp pain lanced through her shoulder.

It was the push she needed. Her frame flipped sharply on its side, her head whipping around sharply, eyes carrying a wild light that promised hell. Immediately, her lips pulled back to reveal the healthy, faintly tinged pink--ivory of her fangs. Her tongue flicked from between bared teeth, ears pinned back against her skull. A terrible din escaped her, choked and fierce and as pitiless as the snows around her. Her eyes widened, however, as their gold depths came to rest on Sudhir's frame.

"Outsider," she hissed, struggling to her feet. It was a stiff and laborious task, but she at last managed it, chin lifting defiantly. True, the male before her didn't seem to bear her any ill will, but the fiery female hadn't survived this long on her own by maintaining a lax guard and friendly assumptions. "Who are you? What is your business in Kalte?"

[Aspen]

Sudhir had not expected the she-wolf’s reaction to be quite so sudden; fur bristling, he took a few involuntary steps back. Yet despite his initial surprise, the male was feeling far from intimidated. Even amongst the two previous packs, the Himalayan had been among the greatest in height. And now, confident in holding a good twelve inches over Aisling, he felt no particular threat from her aggressive display. Rather, the alpha was swamped with a rush of relief that this potential pack member was further from death than he had at first suspected. It seemed he had underestimated the Kalte she-wolf.

A lot of noise from such a little lady, he thought, with a hint of amusement. In a reaction that was fast becoming natural to him, the alpha stepped up his dominant posture. His bearing stiffened, and the thick-furred tail that had at first been held straight in suspicion, now rose like a banner. His eyes – the rich, deep colour of burnt honey – fell unblinkingly upon Aisling’s own as the she-wolf eased herself laboriously to her feet.

“Outsider.”

That statement amused him even more, considering the circumstances unbeknownst to the Kalte female, although he made sure to keep the emotions under a steady mask of authority. Unwavering, Sudhir continued to stand with paws planted firm upon the pure, bitter skin of the pack territories - looking for all the world as though he owned the place. It was, after all, not too far from the truth.

“Who are you? What is your business in Kalte?”

“Ah.” said Sudhir, “So this is the traditional Kalte hospitality I’ve been missing.” He paused, his amber gaze trailing over her in a cold, open assessment; in particular, lingering on the dark, clotted wound that marred she-wolf’s side. “I would take it easy, unless you wish to tear that open again.” He added, smoothly. It wasn’t exactly a threat, more of a subtle reminder of Aisling’s physical state; specifically, which of them held the current advantage.

“I am Sudhir. These lands are under my rule now.” Clearly the new alpha did not believe in mincing his words. It was a clean, certain statement without a hint of uncertainty. No consent needed.

OOC: Sorry for the choppy post. Exam stress is getting to me. :/ I love writing Sudhi in patronising-mode, though! ;>

[Pocket Kitsune]

Aisling would not have reacted so, had it not been for Sudhir's startling methods of rousing her. That is not to say that her manners would have proven tempered and gracious--such was the way of Kalte. The temperament of the wolves that named such lofty peaks their home were as harsh and unforgiving in their policies towards strangers as the very snows that crested the ridged spines of the mountain peaks. But needless to say, her rude awakening certainly hadn't won him any favors. Eyes the color of flecked amber fixed onto Sudhir with a sour expression. Though she was by no means a modest she-wolf in terms of size--indeed, at twenty-four inches at the shoulder, and a generous layer of muscles besides, she cut an impressive figure indeed.

Yet, as proud as she was, she wasn't stupid. As her eyes coolly assessed Sudhir behind an impassive mask of neutrality, they took note of the fact that he all but towered above her. Her eyes never once dropped from his, not even when he suddenly seemed to regain his composure, striking a bold and authoritative pose as his frame squared firmly beneath himself. It was all she could do to bite her tongue and silence the derisive snort that welled on her tongue as his tail arched high above his back. Like the decorative banner of war on a desolate battlefield, his assertion was clear.

If Sudhir had thought that such a display would be show of force enough to lower the rankled female's hackles, he was sorely mistaken. Instead, the pale shadow of a grin ghosted across her lips, stemmed more from amusement than any real pleasure. "Oh, forgive me," she began, "if I'd known you were coming, I'd of course taken pains to make sure you felt right at home." Her false honeyed tones suddenly took on the bitter sting of an adder. "We are Kalte, not Farbe," she said sharply. "Take yourself there if it's hospitality you want." Though her words were the hardened scorn of a seasoned Kalte veteran, and as bitter to the ear as unripened berries were on the tongue, Aisling was not unkind.

Far from it, in truth. But she was one of the few who had pledged her life to these lands, and had for seasons kept loyal to that unspoken oath. She was hardly about to let some upstart place a claim on lands that had belong to none but her for so long, as if it was their Äther-given right. At his words, however, her eyes darkened, a low snarl building in her chest. How dare you, she thought inwardly. But the snarl was less a threat, and more a sound of uneasy resignation. It was true enough that only a fool would risk attacking such a large male, in the pink of health--in her current condition.

"Your concern is touching." But at his next claim, her eyes flew wide, and she did nothing to silence the mirth that escaped her. When at last she'd regained a slender sense of composure, she spoke again. "Oh, I see, milord." Her words all but dripped with condescending sarcasm. "You aren't the first to make that claim, and I wouldn't be so confident that you'll be the last." She tilted her head at him, considering for the drag of a single heartbeat. "Well then, Sudhir. You may call me Aisling."




[No worries. I didn't think it was choppy at all! Ah, good. ;D It'll be an interesting ride with these two, since she's no less so.]

[Aspen]

While Sudhir’s behavior may not have been winning any favours with Aisling, the Kalte alpha was becoming steadily more impressed with the she-wolf’s own. He had been expecting nothing less from a Kalte wolf, and when she refused to break from his authoritative stare Sudhir found himself mentally rifling through his check list. Stubborn – yes. Though for him, that implied loyalty. It was clear he would have to win her trust somehow. Still, Sudhir ran an impressive set of dual standards. While her obvious steadfastness to her pack was appealing in the outset, holding such an attitude towards him was not something Sudhir would be able to stomach for long.

"Oh, I see, milord.”

An odd emotion tugged at his chest, almost akin to surprise. Although the alpha knew well enough that the she-wolf was mocking him with the title, nevertheless it had been the first time anyone had used it on him. A little confused with himself, Sudhir stifled the sensation quickly, not allowing a trace of it to tarnish his firm expression.

“You aren't the first to make that claim, and I wouldn't be so confident that you'll be the last. Well then, Sudhir. You may call me Aisling."

“Make no mistake, Aisling. I do not intend to be the last.” He cocked his head to the side, mimicking Aisling’s own gesture. “Once my work is done here I expect these lands to have a legacy to remember, and many alphas after I am dead.”

No trace of a smile graced Sudhir’s maw, but there was a slight hint in his voice – or perhaps it was his eyes? – that suggested his misinterpretation of her words was deliberate mockery, possibly as something of a revenge for her earlier attitude. It seemed the alpha did possess some degree of humor, if a slightly vindictive one. Yet, the words themselves carried the dual edge of also being completely serious, for Sudhir’s ambitions on the rebuilding of Kalte were certainly not part of the joke. Oh yes, he had great plans regarding that.

Whatever response the female made, however, was quickly cut off as the alpha paced a few steps closer, his gaze once again returning to study the she-wolf’s injuries. “But now is not the time for talk.” He cast a wary eye at the relentless fall of snow, noting the how the whirling flakes were slowly beginning to fade all other colour from their surroundings. The heavens, after all, were highly temperamental. Sudhir, having been born and raised at the heart of a similarly fickle mountain, had long since guessed that the gentle respite would not last.

“If you are well enough to move, we should relocate.”

Given how things were starting to pick up, if they did not act soon all trace of shelter would be lost to their eyes under the blinding torrent of white. Sudhir shot a quick glance back towards where he had dropped the hare, feeling a prickle of irritation that he would probably be unable to recover it in such weather.

[Edit: changed the "once my work is done" line to make it clearer and even more arrogant - though he's doing it deliberately now ^^;]

[Pocket Kitsune]

Sudhir's response coaxed a wry and grudging flicker of a smile to falter across her lips. It was fleeting, the motion too quick to follow with the inattentive eye. Then again, it hadn't been a proper smile. It had been many long months since such a rare thing had graced her maw at all--and like the sun in winter, its presence had been so long absent that few truly thought to look for it any longer. As he tested her, so she had been testing him. Kindness in Kalte was a well-intentioned gift that was swift to send you to the depths of some cavernous ravine, sealing unseeing eyes with frost and your marrow with ice. To survive here, one's behavior was better suited to mimic the cold about them. Strength, not kindness, was Kalte's trademark. A thing that the wolves here prided themselves on.


She could hear the subtle edge to those words, and how they rang with insincerity. Aisling was well aware that he mocked her, but she kept her tongue wisely still. However highly the newly appointed alpha thought of himself, it was not her place to show him the folly of his ways. At least, not yet. If they were to be seeing more of each other in the coming days--and she suspected that was only inevitable--then they would have to try to be civil towards each other. Although 'civil' didn't necessarily entail that they would have to like each other. And until he gave her reason to, she would give him only remote respect--but she would hardly crawl on her belly in submission simply because he felt it was his due.

Bold of you, she thought inwardly. Insulting the past alphas as if their time here meant nothing. But before she could form an equal cool or scathing remark in reply, Sudhir stepped forward. Aisling started slightly, eyes widening subtly--a gesture that was almost imperceptible, but present nonetheless. Unconscious alarm rose sluggishly to the surface of her mind. Those deliberate steps could mean one of several things--and if the intentions of her "alpha" were unfavorable, well...she would hold her own, of course, to the best of her abilities. But it wasn't likely that she'd emerge as victorious as she had over the crimson-pelted she-wolf still dead at their feet.


She exhaled lowly at his words, her muzzle dipping shallowly in a slight nod of consent and acceptance. "There's a cave not more than a mile from here. It is where A--...where I've taken shelter these past few months." She paused, eying him carefully. Doubtless he wouldn't take kindly to being lead by a lower ranking pack member--and to do would mean that he would have to take her word for it--trust her enough to allow her to guide him through these treacherous lands. "I suggest you pick up your hare, milord, if you don't want it lost to the snows." This time, there was no subtle mockery in the title, only a sudden weariness and resignation to her tones.

"And be quick about it. We will have to move quickly to avoid the storm."

[Aspen]

Although there was nothing on the surface to indicate it, Sudhir’s senses were currently locked in overdrive. He had spent far too long scouring the terrain for signs of activity, growing steadily more wound-up by the cold silence that had greeted him and refused to shift. He would have been happy with anything the mountains would have tossed his way; but not the horrific silent treatment. Now, faced with an actual breathing wolf, his suspicions were teetering on the brink. His eyes explored every minute expression of Aisling’s, his mind coasting over a variety of options as to its meaning. But even then, reading her was still… difficult. He even managed to catch the barest flicker of a smile, gone so fast that for a moment he almost doubted that he had seen it. It was something that struck him as the action of one who had had little practice of the gesture. Still uncertain as to whether it was his mind toying with him, he gave no outward reaction. He caught her momentary hesitation as he approached too, but again Sudhir chose for the moment to ignore it. Just as before, the emotion was so subtle – just the barest of hints in her eyes – that for a moment he thought he was imagining things, or had misinterpreted. However, catching her low exhale, he realized he had been correct after all. Interesting.

"There's a cave not more than a mile from here. It is where A--...where I've taken shelter these past few months."

The brief hesitation in her words pricked his ears, but he decided to let it slip for the time being. There was, after all, plenty of time later on to coax more information out of his new pack member. Although he was less than pleased with the idea of being led by a lesser ranked member of his pack, presently Sudhir was out of options.

"I suggest you pick up your hare, milord, if you don't want it lost to the snows."

Ah, so she had noticed him fretting over it. Despite himself, a little smirk found itself appearing at the corner of his mouth.

"And be quick about it. We will have to move quickly to avoid the storm."

That, however, amused him somewhat less.

“A sound suggestion.” He said, referring both to the cave and steadily disappearing hare. “But If I were you I would not throw around such orders, however casually.”

He withdrew, skirting back to where he had dropped the hare while his mind ran over her words. Even while Aisling appeared resigned to authority, both in bearing and attitude, there seemed to be a part of her that was remarkably familiar with assuming control. Sudhir was left to mull over whether she had intended it as a deliberate act to undermine him, or if it was merely something that came naturally to her. The speculation was irresistible for him. Perhaps she had been one of the higher ranked members under the previous alpha? The alphess herself? Maybe, maybe not. Grasping the hare between his teeth, Sudhir turned and pushed through the deepening snow back towards Aisling.

And what of this cave? How was he to know that Aisling was even telling the truth? No – now he was being ridiculous. The shelter was for her own sake, after all. Unless her loyalty to the previous alpha would have her leading him into a snow-masked gorge, or into an iced river, or- Stop it. Pathetic. Get a grip, he thought. There was wariness, and there was plain paranoia. The latter was unacceptable to him, and he forced himself to gather his calm. Though, it was true that Sudhir had yet to explore all of the Kalte lands. And now, thanks to the thickening torrent of snowfall, he was left completely the dark as to the layout of the surrounding terrain. An excruciatingly uncomfortable place for a new, un-established alpha to find himself in.

He would just have to trust her.

OOC: Agh. Sorry again for the lateness![/color]

[Pocket Kitsune]

Aisling's ears pricked forward in a subtle play of amusement. It would seem that her cool suggestion had rankled the newly appointed lord of these lands. A barb settled upon the tip of her tongue-weighty and off-color with the sharpness of its nature. Ready to left fly from her lips without tact or remorse, and embed itself into his pride with the prickly stubbornness of a summer burr lodged beneath the tangled pelt--in a place so tricky to remove, that not even the most persistent fangs could unravel it and move on. Something along the lines of 'And if I were you, I wouldn't be half so damp behind the ears as yourself.' But she swallowed the barb, and instead regarded him with a flat look for the span of a heartbeat.

"But you're not me. And aren't we both grateful for that, hmm?" she rejoined instead. There was a lightheartedness in those words--free of their normal coldness that she'd lavished on him thus far. In fact, there was something inherently...playful about them. A spark of mischief. A single thread that gave a hint, however subtle, of her greater nature. There was more to this she-wolf than the ice in her words and the depths of those startlingly golden eyes. It was hardly an apology-ribald though it was. But it was clear that it was a slip of the tongue--a habit fighting hard against death. She, as he presumed, had once held the mirror title of his own. For a few months--a few blessed months that stayed with her like footprints in the snow.


But it was enough to color her words with an imperious tone, whether or not she intended for them to be, at times. She watched the graceful turn of Sudhir's frame as he pressed through the snow, driving it before him. The snows, it would seem, recognized their lord, even if Aisling herself did not. They parted cleanly from the elongated legs of the male, flying straight into the air once more, as if straining for the heavens they'd abandoned, yearning to possess the dizzy, directionless freedom they'd once held as snowflakes. She waited only until he'd returned to her side once more before she was off, with a coy flick of her tail.

Sudhir's suspicion, if she'd been aware of it, would have made her laugh aloud. It was rare that she encountered a wolf half as wary of the intentions of others as herself. But, thankfully for the alpha, such fears were unfounded. Aisling, however sour her thoughts towards him may be, had little desire to lead him to his death. Make no mistake--she was neither fond nor sentimental of the male. But after months of solitude following Aiden's disappearance, with only an upstart and fiendish female for company--well. She was glad to not be alone once more. Gratitude, perhaps, was what bound the two.

Though she'd hardly go so far as to credit him with saving her life. Not yet. The journey was silent. As much because she had nothing further to say to Sudhir for the moment, as because she needed the silence to find the path and concentrate. Her gaze remained locked on the ground before her, wary of pitfalls and the razor's edge thin blurring of horizon and gorge. If one mistook one whiteness for the other, they would find themselves tumbling tail-over-snout into oblivion, dashed open on the rocks several miles below.

It was a long and tiring journey. The snow pulled at her paws, and the strain of pushing herself caused her wounds to ache and bleed afresh. Her lips peeled away from her teeth in a silent snarl of frustration, aimed solely at herself. But just as the air began to burn her lungs with each ragged inhalation, the dark outline of the cave broke through the first of the more heavily swirling flakes. Her steps quickened, eager to put an end to the journey. But the renewed swiftness of her steps made her side pull painfully taut, and she stopped, reeling from the sudden lacing agony.

"It's just ahead," she managed. "Go on. I'll catch up shortly."