There was so much more for her to do now.

The Broken Pines' queen quickly paced along her borders, pale ears swiveling at every infrequent sound while her nose scoured inches over the cold earth. It would be winter soon and this was no time to let any loners -or block-headed pack wolves- assume any laxity in keeping them patrolled and guarded. Iopah stopped at every place that Koda had previously marked and made sure to leave just as poignant of a warning. Her blunt nails scratched deep, digging past the frost and into the aromatic cedar needles to leave her own pungent reminder.

Until @Koda returned, this would be a task that fell squarely onto her shoulders.

With a final snort the pale woman continued on her way, casting a longing glance into the forest beyond. Of course she hadn't wanted him to leave, but in the end he had convinced her; her every worry over-ridden by his assurances. A low whine slipped free at the memory; she'd forgotten how persuasive he could be. A part of Iopah welcomed the extra work, anything that would keep her distracted and not missing him so much.

Distraction came much sooner than she expected. Iopah swiftly whirled around when the other woman's scent entered her nostrils. They might have been familiar, but that familiarity was likely another reason to keep them away from the borders. It didn't matter that this woman had did not have any affiliation with Secret Woodlands; the last Io had known the younger woman had disappeared after Mirren's defeat. "Kite," Iopah greeted coldly. "Why have you come here?" And why did you leave in the first place?

It seemed logical that Kite would not be travelling alone. When Kite turned to look over her shoulder, Iopah quickly followed the line of sight to look as well. She thoroughly expected Mirren to be only steps behind his female companion. The pair of tawny wolves had been together in the thickets and they had left the thickets at the same time, logic said they had left together.

Kite finally returned her attention, but Iopah could not help glancing about for the Tainn male. Their previous interactions together had been brief and had done nothing to foster any sort of trust or affection with the Broken Pines' queen. I'm not Kite, Kite said. A worried gaze ripped from the scenery to stare at the younger woman. What did she mean? What had happened?

Iopah pressed forward, deliberate and careful. Her ears flicked at the explanation without comment - Kite always was an exuberant speaker. She made a broad, slow circle around her, pulling in scents and inspecting the woman's form. This was Kite, from the height of her limbs to the buff hues of her coat, but she was very alone now. There was no Mirren, only a cacophony of unfamiliar scents and all of them were stale. "No," Her eyes searched for Kite's, wanting to understand. "You are Kite."

Something had happened, that much was clear. The eyes were the same, and the mannerisms, but there was something missing - something that could not just be explained back in. Something more fundamental than a simple story. "I can't go very far and I can't fish very well." The words came out of her mouth without thought, being caught up in the wondering at what had happened to Kite. "My daughters will worry if they cannot find me easily." Especially since their father was currently away.

"No," Iopah said softly, a slight shake to her head. "I've never been to the Caldera." She didn't know what else to say or do. All she'd done so far was create wariness in Kite. "I crossed the mountain last spring and crossed the valley to come here. Before that I lived in the thickets." Just like you did. But that was certain to distress Kite even further, so it was not spoken aloud.

As Kite's insistent came one more time Iopah did not act to correct it, but neither did she nod a head and accept it. This was Kite and she would continue to think of her by that name. But abandoning the argument left a lull and now even she could feel the awkwardness. All they had left was the offer and Iopah stepped forward. "I've always wanted to learn, but... I... don't like deep water." It felt a little silly to admit -being nervous because of a myth- but that didn't make the feeling go away.

"Ki-" Her eyes met Kite's and then looked away. She could not bring herself to call her Nightingale. "The falls are close, just to the north." Indeed the land outside the Pines' borders was crisscrossed with streams that wound to and away from the Secret Falls, but some areas were deep and swift while others were barren of fish. "We could look?" She suggested with a gentle nod for Kite to lead the way if she wished.

"Of course," Iopah thought that the distant crash of water might have been enough of a guide, but she'd forgotten how the massive trees could make the sound echo and reverberate. The low hum was everywhere, even if she didn't actually use it to navigate by. She glanced up at the familiar red cedars that spanned out of sight and grinned. Iopah loved her home regardless.

"It's this way." She murmured to Kite as the older woman took up a narrow path that lead through the undergrowth of salmonberry brambles and frost-burnt ferns. At the question Iopah's ears folded back for a heartbeat, the worry turning over in her chest. They had already met, now the former pack-mate was asking for her name all over. "I'm Iopah." Giving her last name felt like inviting confusion -for it had changed since the two plains wolves had last spoken- and Iopah wanted to spark Kite's memory not muddy it further.

At one point the path split and Iopah veered left, following it out to a wide expanse of pool that the falls emptied into. She stepped to the edge of the shore, water lapping at her toes, and looked back for Kite. "How about this?" It was shallow here, save for where the water cascaded down on the opposite side. A slight current eddied the surface and Iopah peered close. Was a flash of scales or simply the river stones underneath?

Nightingale smiled as the other obliged. The other who, once introduced, Nightingale could now identify as Iopah. Her tail waved; she had missed the hesitation, her mind overwhelmed by the pretty sights around her. Nightingale and Kite were antipodes; they shared the personality, but certainly not the history {given the amnesia}. Nightingale was only aware of her life as Nightingale; others had filled in the blanks. That Hawk had been courting her, and that she had been accepting only the beginnings of his affections prior to the memory loss. Whatever affection there might have been between her and Hawk Nightingale 2.0, the one with no memory, was quick to wave off. It had made Hawk furious, but his impatience only served to push her further away. They had no connection, none at all. Even with his promises that they had connected, that this was her mindlessness speaking for her, Nightingale could not think that this could have been true. Owl had told her that it wasn't love that made her do these things, but the promise of leadership. Ambition Nightingale supposed she could buy... but it felt wrong. And so she continued to snarl at Hawk's advances. That was but one piece of it; that apparently she had been an aunt to the cubs she had killed {not out of neglect}. Aunt not by blood, however. An adopted sister. Adopted sister that was dead. But Nightingale had never dreamed of that adopted sister; she did try to summon her... but all of her dreams led her to one face. A face she could never remember come the morning, but a face that she knew she must return to by nightfall.

Nightingale continued to survey the land, sniffing 'round all the while. Sometimes her muzzle would brush against the earth and others be tilted toward the sky. When the path split, Nightingale was more mindful of Iopah and the direction they took, and soon she moved beside her, keeping behind the woman's shoulder. Her ears swiveled as the sound of water grew louder, and the tawny she-wolf waved her tail enthusiastically. Upon arriving to the shoreline, Nightingale saw the very same flash of silver that Iopah did; she only knew what it was. Perfect! Okay, so, she began, shifting in place, antsy to begin. Move slowly into the water. You want to become a part of it. So the fish don't spook. But you wanna get toward the center. Patience is key. You gotta stand very still until the fish think you're a part of the river. It takes a while but not too long. Soon they'll be comfortable enough to swim right near you, touch your legs and all of that... that's the point when you go for it.

Nightingale moved into the water one leg at a time, moving at a pace that resembled spilled molasses. Very slow, but spreading, becoming a part of the water herself. She was a pro angler, and these aquatic rats of the sea were her bread and butter as a lone wolf. The water was cold, but not cold enough to be unbearable. Nightingale paused a moment to look over her shoulder and check the progress of her newfound friend, keen ears swiveling toward her to listen, also.