There was a silence that lingered through her, her eyes glancing down the slope that persisted in front of her that led nearly straight to the water’s edge. Hardy plants poking through the snow stubbornly as they refused to let the cold dampen their spirit. She could appreciate that, of course… a gentle smile on her features that remained somewhat strained due to the way her stomach rumbled uncomfortably, reminding her of the deep pangs of hunger that had come with being on her own for some time. Even the wolves she had come across had not seemed overly interested in working together to solve their common problem, much to her dismay.

In that moment, she pleaded for anything… and as if she had asked for it, it fell upon her stoop. There were the faintest caws of a bird that had not quite made it south for the winter, grounded by a broken wing of unknown origin. The scent ripped through her nose hungrily, and she found herself dropping low to the ground. It was an incline, and the bird was not going anywhere and so she stepped forward, struggling as she slid down the slope to the water’s edge, rewarded with the bird that she quickly bit into to put out of its misery.

And with that, a hungry bite, savoring the lean and somewhat lacking meat that came from her shockingly easy meal. Nadine would not turn her nose at what could only be a gift from the gods.

She briefly recalled a tale her mother used to tell her about birds, about the dark words they could carry through the horizon on their beaks. There were some in neighboring packs who believed that the birds carried tales of misfortune and saw them as much of an omen. She had never been able to bring herself to prescribe to such beliefs. They had felt ridiculous to her, in all honesty. She had always been something of a realist, even if she was easy to get along with and shared an aspect of optimism. She supposed it had come with her ‘natural’ gift for politics, as her mother had put it.

A voice caught her attention, her gaze turning to spot a young wolf who had to be near her age, though her fur was much darker than Nadine’s, and her blue gray eyes focused on the bird. Nadine finished swallowing before she responded. “It was good as dead anyway… broken wing. A bird that cannot fly is a bird that will not survive.” She answered simply, her gaze focused on the woman who held a distinct scent, telling her that she was not alone, and that a pack must live nearby that she was associated with.

Silence lingered heavily over her as she listened to the insightful words of the other, finding herself surprised that someone her own age could reach such a conclusion… she supposed that was hypocritical. She knew it to be the truth as well. They were both young but they were far from stupid. It was clear with just the simple words from the woman across form her, and even more so as she spoke of such harsh places. It resulted in a thoughtful gaze, a gentle shrug of her shoulders.

“The people I am searching for are more likely to linger around these climates… they are familiar, easier for them to navigate.” She stated as she glanced back at the water. “A fresh water source, all you have to do is crack the ice along the bank… and prey still roams here. I’m willing to wager that it’s more bountiful in the summer, even a pleasant place to live if you can survive the harshness of the winter.”

She had lived the last few months in disarray but not despair. She had been raised to be stronger than that… to endure regardless of the circumstances, despite the thinning of her features due to the hunger that often came with being alone in winter and the need to find her sister, her mother, Cyran… how could she not continue to search for them. She had wondered briefly if Cyran were still at his home… but he had always spoken of leaving, and finding his own path… she liked to think he was somewhere out here, looking.

“They’re strong… resilient… nothing deters them from their goals but they will not rush so brazenly into conflict. They’re smart, able to strategize and find the best solution forward with as little consequences as possible.” She explained, a gentle reflection of admiration in her eyes despite the calm and rather passive nature of her voice.

Talking was… easy, familiar… she knew the ins and outs of conversation, the lilts that those in her area carried… and yet it did not seem as though other regions used the same tone or even directness as those that she was familiar with… it was a shame, because it likely would have enabled her greater feats of movement… perhaps even a place to stay if only temporarily.

As she continued to drawl on, and she raised her brow at her statement, the way that it dragged. “Your pack?” She asked, once more drawing in an inhale and getting a good grip on the scent, a paw still resting on the dead bird that she had been eating. “It’s possible.” She stated simply, not answering her first question with any real answer.

After all, the answer was often a matter of perspective… and it was subjective. To some, her family were monsters, to others friends and saviors… what good would a label do? “What is your name, by the way?”