Ever since Maksim had found her, she had not left the lands of Cut Rock River. The injury sustained to her limb was slowly healing, and while she could walk normally, the cold of the winter would still stir an ache, causing the she-wolf to limp from time to time, if not encouraging her to pull the appendage up to cradle against her chest.


She had taken her time as she traveled – her eyes had strayed to the mountain, her true intent – she knew better than to believe it travelable yet, and yet she still could not keep away. Even so, her eyes would drift back to the direction of the River, feeling the flutter of desperation pull at her. She could not forsake her family for a man who looked to her as no more than a friend and a subordinate within his pack. It still did not ease the pain any more, and with a heavy heart, the Tainn continued on her way, escaping reality for a brief moment.


Evening had begun to fall, and she was still a long distance from the mountain side. Her paws trailed along the edge of the creek, feeling the snow shift beneath her nimble paws. The sun cast a brilliant horizon of pink and orange – inhaling sharply, the she-wolf allowed herself to settle in a recline, her green eyes casting their way to the sunset. She had witnessed such a spectacle many times throughout her young life, each time with her family. Now, it seemed strange how there was only one other soul she wished to share this moment with; especially when there was nothing about her that would give him a draw to her.

She felt his presence before he spoke, but she remained still. The scent that came to her caused her to stiffen – it was traceable as she recalled the blood that had been spilt on Cut Rock River lands.. on the muzzle of her leader. Apparently it had been warranted; trespassers were not taken lightly, and the simple fact they had attempted to hunt on their land during such a time.. Kisla had been surprised Maksim had allowed them to escape with all of their appendages intact.


But her new found companion did not seem to want to continue the bad blood between the packs, and for the moment, the honeyed female allowed herself to relax, though she would tuck her muzzle slightly, protecting her neck should he strike as a viper would. “It is,” she complied, her voice soft, though not necessarily welcome. Her peridot eyes would sweep over to the obsidian wolf, noting the muscles that coursed throughout his large figure. She would turn her eyes then, feeling it inappropriate to stare. Shifting her weight then, a barely audible sigh pressed to her creamy lips at that point, though the Tainn woman managed to withhold a small smirk at the uncertainty of the situation that began to unfold before her. If Maksim had seen her with a wolf of their rivalling pack, would he scorn her? The idea itself made her breath hitch in her chest. “Are you sure it is wise to sit down, given our packs growing history?” It was a simple question – but perhaps he had not heard of the events that had transpired between the two packs.

Her lime yes blinked as the male uttered a noise – was that a laugh? Canting her creamy muzzle, the she-wolf cast a look in his direction, studying him as she did note he was indeed laughing at her. A quiet chuff escaped her just as he spoke, his question stirring a flicker of her own bemusement across her features. “Not unless you do something stupid,” she returned, the tone holding a lilt of coy within it, yet her words entirely serious all the same. Kisla had been known to throw a foolish punch before, and the fact that the dark man was over half her size did not deter this.


It was then she noted the way his eyes trailed down to her limb, and with a flood of self-conscious uncertainty that he was so easily able to detect the injury she had sustained earlier in the winter, she withheld her breath for a moment, her eyes turning colder once more. “I think you give too many the benefit of the doubt,” she returned back, knowing very well just how malicious a stranger could be on any given day, let alone when desperation sunk in. She allowed a pause between these words, stubbornly shifting her gaze back to the creek now and away from him – as if reiterating that she did not fear his presence. “Do you come to the creek often?” The winter landscape blanketed the land before her, yet it remained very familiar to her. The low ache she felt at being on the western side of the mountains once more clung to her, but not as much as the pain she felt at being separated from her loved ones.

Her companion was dark -- not just the fur that lined the entirety of his very large being, but the depth of his rumble and the very essence that emanated from him all hinted to tall, dark and brooding. Had her mind not been preoccupied with a certain handsome silver face, she might have been dangerously allured to the very being that currently sat at her side.

Of course, the illusion have this darkness seemingly fizzled the moment he mentioned sunsets, and the honeyed female could not help but blink as amusement washed over her. Why would you assume that? While she did not necessarily disagree with what he said, her mind did reel as she considered her days at Swift River and then later at Oak Tree Bend -- none of her memories seemed to hold a formidable sunset of any kind, or the reveling of watching the globe settle upon the horizon. No, very little did it seem that she pulled upon the good memories. somehow, only the bad ones seemed to surface.

Am I to assume that sunsets are your 'thing,' then? After all, he had been the one to bring them up. Her gaze would drift from the stranger's cheek then, following the moving waters as they pulsed along the creek edges. Heartleaf Creek had never been a usual stop for her -- even now, with a home once more upon a winding territory of water, she found it unlikely she would visit often. Yet even as the scent of Hollowheart Keep and the tensions that were beginning to spiral between their packs, Kisla could not say she regretted the decision to visit this very moment.

The compliment was so indifferent it almost made her question whether it was meant as such – pretty, indeed. She had never been complimented on her appearance before, let alone by a man of his age. Swift River and Oak Tree Bend had served as nothing but family, rather than prospects of love, and while her attention had solely been focused upon a certain pale male, his own intent had instead been placed upon her mother. Fitting enough, given their age difference, and yet Kisla would still feel the sting of that for many months. She would rue the day Ice could possibly ever walk back in to her life.

Yes, she murmured, her tone dry and yet teasing. Hollowheart Keep was no friend of the River’s and as the moment’s stretched between them, she became increasingly aware of how inappropriate it was for her to be coercing with this stranger. Pretty girls like pretty things. There was amusement in her tone – and perhaps even the slightest hint of sarcasm to his assumption.

Standing then, the Tainn lady knew the time to leave had surpassed. Giving her pelt a brief shake, her eyes scanned over the swarthy male, pointedly hiding the thoughts of how particularly handsome he was.. especially from herself. I’m almost afraid to ask what those pleasures would be, she smirked, canting her muzzle slightly. But I dare say I will be taking my leave now. It was a pleasure to meet you…? Pausing, she realized then she had not caught his name.

But the male did not give it, and with a smirk, the tawny she-wolf swept away, back to the lands she now called home.