Snow swirled lazily from the sky, tiny flakes drifting through the cold like strays, unable to find rest anywhere. The ground underfoot was frozen solid, mostly covered by week old powder that had been stamped into an icy floor. Even the air itself seemed iced over, pale bluish fog obscuring the landscape, fading everything into nothingness within a few steps distance. Under these conditions, crossing the mountains was not exactly easy, and lay far from the smartest of choices for an afternoon stroll. And yet, a dark figure wove its way down the hillside from the snowy cliffs, paws barely leaving a mark on the hard surface. In many places, the snow had melted an refrozen, leaving slippery patches that could prove fatal to reckless travelers. And indeed, the raven wolf's eyes were turned down, carefully studying the ground ahead.

His tour over the mountain had been long and straining, taking much longer than the last time he crossed the pass. Initially, setting out from the Bend, he had simply wanted the time alone, a good stretch of his legs and fresh air in his lungs. Yet as soon as he crossed the borders of his pack, his paws had taken him towards higher grounds; It seemed every time he stood at a crossroads in his life, he longed for the mountains, as if the familiarity of the highland would help ease his mind. As soon as he began climbing the snowy ridge, he knew the trek would be both exhausting and risky. And yet, rather than turning around, he had continued upwards, enjoying the hardship as it forced him to focus completely, chasing all other thoughts from his mind. Though, once he reached the crest, all his contemplations returned, and he was back where he started; Running from my problems!

And he was nowhere near ready to face them. Winter might just be peaking, but to the dark man it felt like spring was just around the corner, and with it came all manner of worries and dreads. But he'd set out on this trek to free of them, at least for a couple of days, and so he continued onwards, braving the western side of the mountain pass. Now, as the sun had just passed its highest somewhere above the fog and clouds, he was leaving behind the last fragments of rock, jutting out from the ice and snow, crossing onto the flatter lands that were normally known as Fireweed Rise. At the moment though, the slope was nothing more than a field of white.

Despite the solid frozen cover, his muscles soon registered the leveling of the terrain, aching gratefully; It's been quite a few years since my mountain climbing days… The silver taint on his muzzle, belly and paws a witness of just how many. He shuddered, he still hadn't quite come to terms with his graying. The shiver made a flurry of snow loosen from his ruff, trickling down between the hairs on his back. Another quivering shook his body, shoulder raising defensively against the cold of the snow, and he shook out his fur vigorously, face twisting in dismay. The white flakes fluttered to the ground and he grunted; If only the rest of the white was so easy to get rid of! He sighed and continued onwards, a sudden rumbling in his stomach reminding him that he had just crossed a mountain, and it had been quite a while since his last meal.

Ember eyes scoured the frozen wasteland, mouth curling into a sneer; He would be hard pressed to find anything eatable hereabouts. Though, surprisingly, his gaze did fall on something moving in the distance; Could I be so lucky? He speed up, eyes narrowed to slits against the bright snow, nostrils flaring as he sought to catch the scent of the shadowy figure. There was hardly any wind to carry it through the mist though, and he was close enough to recognize the contours of another wolf, when he finally smelled her too; Damn! He'd have far preferred something eatable, he wasn't exactly in a mood for socialization. Though, on the other hand, this stranger might be a good way of diverting his attention again, now that the mountain climbing was over; Run, run, run away… At least, just for a little while longer. "Hello there!" He called, crooked smile slipping, surprisingly easy, onto his face as he slowed, approaching the stranger at a leisurely walk, tail lowered amicably.

I figure slowly materialized out of the snowy mist as he stepped closer, her scent revealing an abundance about her, even before she came clearly into view. On the light wind, he could smell the characteristics of pack wolf: The mixed musk of many others; The fresh odor of someone clean and healthy, who'd eaten recently; As well as a strange, damp perfume that he hadn't encountered before – probably indigenous of her homeland territory. There were plenty of surprises left for when he finally laid eyes on her though, and the ebony man could not prevent his dusted brows from rising at the sight. He'd never come across a wolf quite like her before. His first thought was Oliver! But beyond the general color scheme, there was no resemblance at all, and he pushed the painful memory from his mind. This lady was a vision indeed, her exotically patterned fur sleekly covering a well proportioned body of muscles firmed by good use. She was slightly smaller than him, but not by much, and her eyes, now locking with his, but a few shades lighter. And her face… Now that his eyes had reached it he could not tear them away. Across her muzzle, pale against the raven fur, were three thick gashes, long healed into grayish scars. Scars that seemed eerily familiar.

He stood frozen for a moment, heavy breaths rattling his body as he stared at those scars. If he focused only on them, he could pretend, just for a moment… With great force, he tore his eyes away, feeling a deep sting in his heart that he otherwise hadn't in a long time. He met the strangers gaze instead, concentrating on the differences rather than the similarities; Lots of wolves have scars..! That was true, in fact, he had quite a few himself, if none as prominent as this woman's. The sound of her voice rang out in his head, and it helped him gain some distance on the pain, her words making his ears twitch. She spoke cheerfully, in a clear, light vocal, and he managed to smile back at her, regaining himself fully; As if emerging from deep under water.

The stranger's smile was kind and pretty, and it was not hard to repay it with a trademark, crooked grin. Drestig bowed his head lightly, no trace of his momentary stumble remaining as he answered: "Name's Drestig Avalon. Pleasure to meet you, miss?" The question was only faintly implied, as he lingered on the title, looking back up into her twinkling marigolds. Now that his strange moment of relapse was over, he was fully able to look at her face, even appreciate it; Certainly not the WORST stranger I could have come across.

The piebald woman ignored his brief breakdown, and for that Drestig was grateful. She moved instead to answer his query, returning his pleasantries as well. The man nodded, still smiling easily, his tail wagging lazily at his hocks. At her question he cocked a brow, a mischievous glint in his eye when he returned: "I could say the same of you, Enoki." The name rolled slowly off his tongue as he relished it, enjoying the way it felt. He allowed a short, teasing pause, then he indulged: "But I suppose you could make a case for that, I'm not a frequent visitor on this side of the mountain." He cast an indolent glance around them, as if studying the scenery – which was none existent, the fireweeds wilted and covered by the snow – then he wrinkled his nose, though there was still a smile in his eyes as they returned to the monochromatic woman.

He looked to meet her eyes, and couldn't keep the grimace on his face, cracking into a breathy laugh. Even though it was low and short-lived, it felt rejuvenating, lifting some of the crushing weight off his tired shoulders; When was the last time I laughed..? Whenever it was, it had been too long. Still with a big grin on his face, he explained further: "My pack lives just on the other side of the pass, Oak Tree Bend." He paused briefly, feeling a bit off, at the phrase, but quickly pushed it aside to instead ask: "Is yours close by?"

There was something utterly freeing about this, having a casual conversation with an agreeable stranger, allowing the troubles that weighed him down to briefly fade away. She had a ringing, infectious laughter, her seemingly humble words hiding an intriguing hint of something cheeky. He nodded understandingly at her comment, easily slipping on a sympathetic expression. He didn't notice her tension as he spoke of her home, only smiling as she opened her mouth again. The grin only grew wider in response to her words, his own tail flicking approvingly. "You will be most welcome." He interjected smoothly, not even thinking of the likelihood that he at least would no longer be there once she came to visit. Instead he followed her gaze, towards the willows, a small light flicking in the back of his mind at the mention of the name; Wasn't that one of the packs Jessie had visited during their mission, what seemed like eons ago?

Ember eyes returned to briefly meet with equally bright deep ambers, a crooked grin now on his silver-tipped muzzle; "I see. And do you enjoy it? Being but a humble subordinate of Willow Ridge." He quirked a brow, full of glee at his teasing echo of her former words. It really was as if all his problems had melted, his mannerisms back to the usual, easy mischief that had once been the essence of his being. After two years in Oak Tree Bend, he had seemingly grown out of those habits, but it was a joy to slip back in, even if it was just for a few moments. Tilting his head, his slick voice took on a drawl, eyes, seemingly incidentally, sliding away from her appealing, piebald form; "I'd imagine there are plenty of more… Advantageous positions out there, for a lady such as yourself?" Oh he was laying it on thick, but he couldn't help it, it was truly the most fun he had had in months. And if he was gonna turn back into a pumpkin at midnight, he was damn well gonna get the most he could out of this ball.