Her day started the same as any other. It was still dark when her gold eyes blinked open, dawn would not come for another hour. With each passing day the sun took longer and longer to rise into the sky. It was tempting to curl up and wait for the sun, but she pulled herself from the den. The sun was also setting earlier and she could not waste the daylight. Outside of the den her breath billowed white in the cold air. Her steps were quiet, the way so memorized that the dark was not a hindrance. In the graying gloom she checked in on her pack mates. Pausing just long to see each sleeping soundly before continuing.

The thicket was heavy and quiet, so she headed to the border. By now the sun was beginning to creep over the distant mountains. Weak rays of light stretched across the ground as the hunter set her nose to work. She sifted through the scents the night had left behind, going through the cacophony of sweetly-decaying leaves and rich earth to pull out a single instance of rabbit. It was the same every day. The silence was a habit, the pale wolf traveled along with nose fixed to the trail and eyes trained out the undergrowth. A large smear of blood laid over the leaves and when her nose came up to it she hesitated. Iopah was a practiced hunter, she knew how much blood-loss was too much for most animals. The trail continued, now spattered with blood, so she continued.

The sight that greeted her was like no other. There was her rabbit, awkwardly shoved in a gap between two large rocks. Under it lay an assortment of similarly bent animals. Her eyes widened and she glanced around, sure to find something watching protectively. Nothing shifted, no eyes stared back at her. Delighted now, she poked her muzzle into the unguarded cache. If it wasn't for the glassy-eyed fox wedged inside she would have assumed it was a fox cache. She set about pulling the pile apart, much like a child pulling everything out of a toy chest.

Once it had been up-ended, she went back over everything. Soon four squirrels, three rabbits, a pair of robins, and the single fox were spread out around her. Her lips curved into a smile. She laughed aloud, a sudden happy sound in all the silence. It was all hers now. The rabbit was still warm and greedily she pulled it to her. She was going to have an early breakfast this morning.

The rabbit was gone now and the weak rays of light were now fingers of delicate yellow and brilliant copper. Iopah shifted, eyes roving over the new-found collection, and the colors danced on the pale creams of her coat. She was certainly lucky today, to have a days haul and breakfast handed to her. Some poor beast was going to be decidedly unlucky later, having been shown the stupidly of leaving their cache so close to pack borders. There was a smirk at the irony, but no hesitation in her actions. She was fiercely loyal to a fault. The pale wolf would throw herself in front of a bear to protect a pack mate, while simply watch a rival wolf torn to pieces.

She was debating starting on the robins. They were small, hardly worth the trip forth and back to deposit them in a cache. Or, she mused, I could just eat them and save a trip. Open jaws were lowering to the feathered creatures when someone cleared their throat. Her head rose with her hackles, more startled than aggressive. A pack mate wouldn't have cleared their throat as introduction, and she didn't recognize the pitch of their voice. He was young, with a deep range of earthy hues. Iopah watched him silently, black nose flaring as the lips that covered her teeth tensed to pull back. He looked down quickly and Iopah's facial expression relaxed, but she didn't look away immediately in turn. He was vaguely familiar, an old encounter. Something to do with... a rabbit?

He commented on the meal that lay at her feet and she glanced down at the two remaining rabbits. "It is." She said warily, not sure what he was trying at. At one point she may have shared with a stranger, but that point had long since passed. If he was trying for a meal, he would have to do better than that. He wasn't a pack mate, ergo he got nothing for free. She spent a second looking at him, pondering what to do, as her hackles smoothed down along her pack. Finally, she simply asked, "Do you happen to be lost?" It was the most polite way Iopah had of asking 'What are you doing here and how can I show you on your way?'

Her tone had not been pleasant and Iopah was mildly put-out when Renier sat down at her pointed question. She still wasn't sure exactly where she knew him from, but for the moment, she was too caught up in his self-assurance to care. Her breath came out in a quick puff of white that curled around her narrowed eyes. Didn't he know they were still nearly within spitting distance of her borders?

Apparently not, for as she waited, he began to study her. Decidedly she shifted, keeping a dark shadow over the treasure trove at her feet. A sigh fell heavy from her lips, making it clear she was beginning to lose patience. She blinked at his response, not expecting his off-hand statement. So he recognized her too? Just as he said 'silly pup', Iopah had it. She remembered the evergreen forest child and the rabbit he had refused. The wolf before her stood taller and sturdier. He was taller than her now, but that didn't deter her from confidently meeting his gaze. It seemed he had changed in more ways than that, having tentatively proposed a conversation. Her responding nod was even, the Lyall surname meant nothing special to her, but the irony was not lost on the Barberi hunter. Here was the same woman, the same boy and another rabbit (or two) all together again. A succinct dip of her blood-stained muzzle while gold eyes fairly danced with wry amusement.

In a roundabout way, he'd asked for her name. She had no intention of deliberate rudeness and answered comfortably, "Iopah Barberi," Gray tail curled partway around the find as she settled in. "I've been in the thickets since we first met."

Head cocked to the side as she appraised him again, slow enough to make it obvious. "And you, not living in the cedars any longer?" It was a leading question. Of course, he wasn't. The cedars cast a distinctive and lingering scent while he smelled of... willows? It seemed a long way to come in search of a free meal. Maybe age would make him more forthcoming? Maybe....

Presence of family to her back and scent of a meal rising into her nostrils, Iopah blinked down confidently. She thought she'd put it all together, the response she was expecting to coax out was a confession of wanderlust. Last night Renier had belonged to the willows, and yet here he was scavenging the thicket borders far to the north. Two springs ago the same man had belonged to the cedars. With all these facts Iopah had came up the assumption that Renier was simply a free spirit. A more tactful term for someone who couldn't hold loyalty.

She followed his gaze to the ground, seeing the gesture as denial of the question and wanting to force the issue with her sharp expression. He couldn't come knocking and then refuse to speak with the natives a second time. Expecting such a different answer and being so full of righteous pride, she could do nothing but gape at the offered truth. He had not left alone, creeping into the night as imagined, but with parents who'd given up a home for their children's sake. The stark contrast hit home in more than one way and Iopah had to turn her own gaze away. "I'm glad," speaking with meticulate precision as proof of sincerity, "that all your family survived." If only her parents had done the same for her years ago.

She heard the shifting of paws, a slight crackling of frost crystal that chimed loudly in the early morning, and turned as he spoke again. Brows drew together in a scowl at the information. No, she had not known. The hunter shook her icy coat as if it was an accusation of laxity. She listened to the croon of his voice and understood the hardness of his stare. He wanted them gone. "Have they taken up your old borders as well?" The connivance of that idea was enough for her hackles to bristle sympathetically and she glanced in the direction of the brambles. "I've had my own neighbors to deal with this year." The word neighbors was uttered with a flash of her teeth, leaving no question as to how she wanted to deal with them.

Iopah was still every bit the daughter her parents had raised five years ago. Pelage a dead ringer for her mother, and personality not much different. Eyes the exact same shade as her father and just as expressive as his had been. Those had been difficult times. Land was the same as life. There were too many wolves living on their slice of South Dakota and her parents were the most resistant to leaving. They had fought horribly for land and the prey it offered. They had stolen a child, and lost an only son in turn.

Even though she'd been too young to participate, it was deeply ingrained. Territoriality was as much a part of her as her coat and shade of her eyes. She was still a Barberi hunter, even after all those years, and was fiercely protective of her land. It showed in the way her body stayed arranged diagonally to Renier now. The alignment was unconscious, but purposeful. She understood his anger intuitively. He'd found a kindred spirit, an ally of sorts, in her. His enemy was instantly disliked for the transgression they'd committed.

North meant closer to her. Eyes narrowed to glittering gems, sharp with displeasure at the news. They had even fewer reason to be allies with her now. Iopah disliked neighbors much less than Renier did.

He invoked their alliance. Tense muzzle loosened instantly and she snorted. It was a light and amused sound, her eyes were sly as they turned back to Renier. Her dislike of them wasn't a secret, why should anything else be? She would give them away in a heartbeat, for less than a song. "I'd be happy to give them away." The ominous promise was one her mother would make. "Idiots. Less than a day from our borders." She wanted to ask something she shouldn't. Her tongue wet her lips as she considered how far Nina's decree stretched. And how to word it? Too harsh would make her barbaric. Too soft and she would be indecisive. "I wonder how many it would take to chase them from your land?"