She descended down from the great stone in the northern reaches. She had held no want to for a long time. Yet the way her body contorted with the beginning of starvation pushed her to traverse. To pick apart the lowlands like a vulture. She could not hunt big game, she could not rely upon caches to be stocked with food at her every whim.

She could not find blocks of frozen food with a sister.

Her features twisted with her thoughts, an ugly sneer settled comfortably on her peppered face. A look that seemed all too natural these days for the lost girl.

Was she really lost? She had picked to leave. She had fled those who cared not enough to watch the blind. She had picked not to go home when the path had been there.

Her head rolled loosely with the mounting frustration she felt. Right up until an odd figure peaked over snow drifts. Like a crown had fallen to earth. What on earth was it? Who had bothered to make it? Nobody seemed to live up here... Unless she had overlooked somewhere. Which was wholly possible, Isla had not been a diligent scout. She had only moved when wind and hunger compelled.

Antlers.

She had learned that bones sometimes still held things within them. Although these seemed far too big for her to break and find out. Not to mention how they linked together in an odd formation.

Fuck. This spat harshly in a frigid breath.