Nomads Pass shattered into ash

Ginerva used to get teased for her lanky frame, her siblings always towering over her, large in stature like their parents… but she was doing just fine, thank you very much. She deftly moved through the Pass, searching for a decent meal to hold her over to the next – the life of a loner wasn’t easy, but it was far better than life with all of her brothers. They’d been so rude, telling her how a lady should or should not behave… but guess what? She controlled her own life, and no one could tell her to sit still or smile at one of the other yearlings who would make such a great pair with her when she came of age.

The wind and torrent of snow whipped around her, but she held her own, making each stride as powerful and controlled as possible. It was just a little mountain weather, after all. They said shorter wolves were far more wicked because they were closer to hell, and Ginny was going to prove it.

Anywho, that wasn’t any of her business, shaking her alabaster head clear of the troubling and, frankly, rather vengeful thoughts from her head as she kept moving forward. Her head was close to the ground, her snout sniffing for anything small – she couldn’t handle anything large by herself, after all, and her ears perked to listen for others who might be in the area. She wasn’t about to share whatever she found either, no matter who it was. Handsome bloke or not, a girl needed to eat, and she was optimistically hoping she'd find it. Wasn't spring supposed to be around the corner anyway? Yeah fuckin' right!

Having joined a pack, it seemed life
had made its way back into the man's bones. His cold eyes appeared a bit more lively;
though his typical intense stare remained. Dirtied white paws slap cold stone as he makes
his way along the pass. The occasional swirl of snowflakes would whip around, causing him
to squint. Ears pressing against his head, he snorts as the walls of stone get higher around
him. The wind was tremendously cut; he was grateful. His flesh needed a break from being
stung and nipped at.

It felt nice not to feel like a bag of bones anymore. He had started to eat well once more, but
he also knew he'd have to do his part in keeping the cache stocked. Salix wandered around
the territory and now a bit outside of it in search of prey. The mountains were a tad
something new to him- being used to the flatlands, this was a complete change of pace. He
tried to think of it as a good change, but something telling him otherwise poked at his mind.
There was no time for such thoughts.

Salix comes to a slow when he catches sight of a wolf just up ahead. He narrows his eyes, face
contorting into one of slight displeasure. Quickly wiping the look off his face, the man decides to
give the interaction a chance. He strides forward at a casual pace, his tail low as to show no harm.