Iopah slept fitfully, tucked into her den and shrouded in a layer of fog. The day had been unseasonably mild and, as night set, the moisture condensed to form dense rolls of fog. It bathed everything in white silence. Tiny beads of moisture clung to the tips of her pale whiskers as the wolf shifted. She had turned in only a few hours ago, just as the white mist began to form in the thickets. Her legs tensed, pressing into the sides of her small den. When her eyes blinked awake, the fog had begun to slip into her sleeping quarters.

She pushed her nose out through the entrance and managed to peer through a thinning gap in the whiteness to see the sky. The moon was red, as if with blood. Iopah wasn't superstitious, but the sight of it made her lips tighten. It looked like something had attacked the moon. The black end of her nose pulled back in and she spent several minutes blinking in the dark. Whatever had woken her wasn't through. The Barberi woman often had restless nights and she silently left her spot.

The fog was up to her elbows and she cut a path through it as if she was parting deep grass. She made her way to the border and followed a familiar scent to it's post. Tonight she was too restless to stay and visit with @Koda and only a few moments passed before she stepped over the borders with a promise to be careful. She needed to burn this worrisome energy off and went in search of a patch in the canopy to watch the moon through.

She caught brief glimpses of the moon through patches in the thinning leaf cover. Gold eyes would seize onto the inauspicious sight and her pace would slow, till the next gust of clouds pulled it away and behind. Pale feet carried the wolf along, each step sluicing through thick fog, in her search for a clearer view of the bloodied moon. Caught up in the quest and knowing her way through this dense twist of thicket, her face never left the sky.

It was a combination of guided searching and memory that lead her toward the orchard. Her eyes chased after the scattered tree line that bordered the land, following each progressively thinning patch in the canopy. Intellectually she knew that the grassy orchard was the best place to watch the sky. The thicket was dense and impenetrable, a wolf would have to climb a tree to view the sky.

Iopah never made it to the orchard, being waylaid by distraction. A sparseness in the canopy held her attention and she slowed to peer through it. Head flung back, gold eyes bright in the murky dark and ghost-white fog, she watched the moon. She had few superstitions, and none that contained a blood-moon, but the sight was unnerving. It was wrong for it to be the color of a freshly dead animal. She held her silence, lips twisted in a worried line.

A loud cry sliced into the air and the Barberi woman snapped her attention back into the dark trees. Gray hackles rose in shock then settled to bristle in irritation. There was one last glance to the bloody orb, then she pushed off with strong hind legs to plow through the mists.

A female was waiting for her, reclining in the dying grasses. Her pelt a soft blending of colors, the hues seeming to shift under the fog that enveloped them both. Iopah watched her a moment, unsure of what Aestyn wanted and whether she was even inclined to help this strange wolf. "It don't think tonight is a good night to make that kind of noise." The suggestion was combined with a nod at the sky where a blood-red moon shone down on the two women.

It hadn't been her intention, but as the other cast about, Iopah realized she hadn't been sighted yet. The fog was thick and she must have underestimated it's ability to shield her. Wisps of frosty white slipped between them. Her own pale coat was lost in the sea of white that surrounded them. This was a strange encounter and for a moment she was content to sit and bask in the unexpected surge of self-assurance. Aestyn referred to her howl as sound effects and Iopah had to smile. That gesture was lost to the thickets, but her amused laugh carried through to the other woman.

The light-hearted sound was still being sucked up by the fog when she stepped forward. This was no way to have a conversation. Iopah was rarely friendly to strangers, but she always had the decency to unpleasant be to their faces. "I'm sure the rest of the thicket didn't appreciate the effect as much as we did." She commented, mind going to the rest of her family. Certainly it would unnerve the boys, and what would Koda think of the sound? It was only a gently reminder and held no malice in it's tones. The pups were fine and if Koda came to check on things she would hush him back.

She was not concerned, but rather perplexed. What was this woman doing here? She had done nothing wrong, and yet.... There had to be something she was after. "What draws you to the thicket? Certainly it's not the scenery."

Iopah watched the silhouette of a wolf that seemed carved from the fog itself. There was enough glow from the bloody moon to reflect off the points and lines of their form and Io slid to an easy stop before them. The woman was still and calm at the huntress' approach, offering only benign amusement and a polite nod as Iopah stood before her.

The mists had parted between them, but the whiteness had not left. It eddied underfoot and wove through the surrounding trees to create a shifting backdrop for the serene encounter. The moisture wasn't snow, but it clung to the rims of pale gray ears with the same heaviness as her head tilted to wait.

The woman was considering her words... not an actionable offense. Aestyn had done nothing that Iopah could do more than raise a brow at. She had no right to demand such an answer. And yet an answer came. Iopah was not a wordy woman, could not turn a phrase to save her life. Aestyn reply flowed like silk and the Woodlands wolf was at a loss to gauge it's truthfulness. Slight hesitation over the last word was the facet Iopah latched onto.

Deep gold lifted from the shifting mosaic of whites to regard her curiously. "But not a family?" She didn't mean the question in the 'find a mate and start her own' sense. Whether Aestyn could deduce that from the simple phrasing and candid expression was unknown. A home was just a place to lay one's head, it could be anywhere. Compared to a family, it was irrelevant. "A home means little by itself."

The woman jerked. Iopah stirred with concern, the mists drew back at her soft movement to swirl and twist in the space between them. What had happened? Was she ill? An ear, streaked dark with moisture, flicked forward to check. As Iopah leaned in with that slight movement the fog seemed to press up against them, bloody and insistent. At Aestyn's answer she drew back sharply and the mists shivered around her with a sound like laughter.

The words were slow and decisive, dropping like something tangible into the mists . There was no way for the Woodlands wolf to overlook the error she'd made now. Unwittingly she'd pressed on a sensitive subject. She'd said far too much, asked for more than could be given. Aestyn was pulling from what she couldn't stand to discuss. Iopah remembered pulling back in the same manner, and then confronting the one who wanted to pull too much too soon from her. That day her teeth had bared to Hollow's prying and tonight this strange woman meet her gaze in the same manner.

There was a question, an expectation in Aestyn's expression. Vapors drifted like ghosts and Iopah held the gaze for a long moment. Of course there was nothing she could say. Couldn't agree to a reality her mind rebelled at and wouldn't argue with Aestyn over the statement. Gold eyes dropped in acknowledgement. Her words were a soft offering. "The thickets may not be your home, but for tonight they will be safe." This, at least, she could do.