Beneath the clear, cobalt sky, the chill of late autumn had descended upon Relic Lore. It would be soon, Volkan speculated as she picked her way carefully through the Wildwood, that these ruined woods would be covered in snow— and the small hare dangling from her jaws only exacerbated that feeling, for she knew that soon food would be scarce. When she first arrived here, the day she met Ruiko for the first time, snow lay like crushed diamonds, covering everything. She remembered that peace, the serenity she had felt that day. Life here was no longer so quiet, and she couldn't decide whether or not that was a good thing.

The static-colored wolf, long-legged and messy-furred, picked her way carefully across a thinner part of Heartleaf Creek, having decided to explore the northern part of the Wildwood on a whim. Careful to keep her kill out of the water, she stepped lightly. Soon, she was well aware, there wouldn't be much time for idle wandering, especially of the solo variety; Ruiko and Kinis would be taking off from Swift River any day now, and Volkan had resolved herself to biding her time comfortably. After they split from the pack, they'd be tasked with the struggle of winter survival. The young female was already dreading the snow and the relentless cold, but with such small numbers, bringing down prey was going to be difficult. Recruitment played on her mind ever since her encounter with Triell, but she knew it was a touchy subject around the River wolves...

She sighed, having finally wound her way into the thick forest. Despite the cold, the woods still flourished, and the leafy golden canopies above blocked out the clear sunlight from overhead. After she was good and lost, and presumably alone, she dropped her kill to her paws, blinking at it as she pondered. There was so much to do: recruit, hunt, prepare for the winter... and yet, all she honestly wanted to do was go find Triell and forget about all of this excitement for a while...

The kill lay still at Volkan's feet, blood gently trickling from its otherwise stiff neck. It had been an easy catch for the otherwise average hunter; her experience was more in facing off against enemies of the canine variety, after all. She supposed it was a good thing that her time in Swift River had not required her to draw upon that skill, but with the new pack, the female was sure things wouldn't come easily at first, not until they were established. Lone wolves would try to join, challenge up in the ranks, perhaps even take over. Volkan was ready for that; in fact, imagining a real fight made a dry smirk curl across her face. So far, Relic Lore wolves weren't as ready to jump into battle as she had imagined, but nonetheless, she was becoming more and more excited by the day to begin defending the new pack—

The sound of soft padfalls broke her train of thought. Volkan's head snapped over her shoulder, pale eyes bringing a large, dark figure into focus as she quickly got to her feet. Before she realized that the shape was female, her heart threatened to pound out of her chest; but she wouldn't be so foolish as last time, when she had mistaken an innocent albeit annoying stranger for Rhysis. Instead, she held her ground as the stranger drew nearer, head lowering in silent greeting. Volkan could see that she was older, and beautiful, with a sort of strange, almost familiar elegance. At her words, an ear cocked, and a brow lifted with it. Trouble? The onyx female stared for a moment, finding the female's face a little uncanny to look at for some reason, and rolled one shoulder in a shrug. Still she was careful to maintain her footing, standing over her kill protectively, out of instinct more than distrust.

"Isn't my creek," she responded through a grin, a forepaw kicking at the kill between her legs absently, feathery tail giving an idle flick. It appeared that this wolf hadn't eaten recently. And though the stranger's manners were polite, careful not to infringe, she didn't seem to possess the nervous trepidation— or alternatively, the bold ignorance— of most Relic Lore newcomers. Perhaps she'd been here before? Silently, Volk bent down to tear into her own kill, though not without a curious eye fixed upon the stranger. Something about her was... different.

Volkan tipped her head quickly in recognition of the other wolf's apology, keeping her pale eyes fixed on the stranger as she turned away. Briefly she watched the other in silence, bending down to her own kill, yet only nosing it as she studied her movements from across the scene. When she actually began to fish, the younger female began gently tearing into her rabbit, easily stripping the flesh, using a forepaw to anchor it to the ground. As its blood spilled into a puddle around it on the chilled ground, she savored the metallic taste of its meat, only glancing toward the other wolf after the first few bites had satisfied her initial hunger.

The stranger seemed to have caught a fish. Volkan continued eating, keeping her thoughts to herself, her mind lingering briefly on the question of whether or not she should save some of this kill for the cache, or alternatively, for herself. The weather was becoming colder every day as the winter approached, and she was well aware that any extra bulk would be put to good use once the new pack was out on its own, struggling to survive. With this thought in mind, she ripped off a few more hunks of meat, consuming them lazily before raising her head to check on the female on the river's other side.

She decided to follow the other's suit in taking a drink, and abandoned her meal, now a half-eaten bloody mess on the ground. Crossing to the river, her dull gaze found the other female, a small smile crossing her peppered features as she peered up at her, bending to the water slowly. This being done, she brought her head up slowly, nodding when the female finally spoke. A stupid journey, huh? She did look like she needed more food than a wolf who hadn't been traveling, Volkan noted, but still found herself amused by the other's need to thank her. Though, she did remember asking Ruiko for a drink from the creek the first time they met, so she supposed manners weren't all that unnatural for a wandering wolf. And they definitely helped at least a little; Volkan, if nothing else, appreciated the woman for her apparent friendliness, and her feathered tail swept a wide half-circle at her ankles at her question. Hm, so she knew of Swift River, huh?

"Yeah," she responded after some thought, head at an angle. For now. Wondering briefly if she should disclose the nature of her membership to the pack, Volk shrugged lightly, holding in a breath as she picked her words. "I do represent Swift River at the moment," she stated, though her voice carried a slight hint of musing, as though she was telling herself this as well. It was a complicated topic, so she flashed a jovial grin at the wolf across the water. "How d'you know the River wolves?" Who was this wolf, and what was her connection to Swift River?

"Yeah, the pack doesn't take the whole 'being abandoned' thing too lightly," she agreed, well aware of this fact herself, though slightly regretful, in hindsight, that she'd chosen the word 'abandoned,' which had probably seemed insensitive of her. Oh well. Anyway, the thing that previously bothered her about the River wolves, though— their obsession with loyalty— had recently floated to the back of her mind in light of the new pack forming. Speaking about it with Triell had calmed her nerves somewhat about the matter, but still, she could identify. "Which I hope isn't a huge deal, 'cause Ruiko's starting his own—"

The onyx wolf stopped mid-sentence, mouth hanging open momentarily before her teeth clicked together hesitantly. Ruiko. Something that had somehow been at the back of her mind, and not the forefront, had just, in that instant, become glaringly clear.

The name, she couldn't quite remember— but its mysterious, forgotten syllables rang in her mind in Ruiko's jaded drawl as momentarily, his disappointment, his mistrust at the mention of the Aquila name, flashed in her mind's eye. The description: "larger than you," or something like that, "with amber eyes." That was the part she remembered. That was the part that, now, her own icy gaze lingered upon, matching the face across the water with the face of her father. Somehow, the name came to her then.

"...You're Ranger." It spilled out of her mouth without her permission, and Volkan was left staring, at a total loss.