Snow lay thickly between the trees, swathing the spaces between them with flawless white that muffled Lucien's footsteps and obscured the terrain below it's deceptively perfect surface. It was slow going for the young male - overnight, clouds had passed overhead, leaving a fresh, pillowy obstacle course in their wake. Every few steps, his paws would punch through to sink below the snow's surface - there simply wasn't enough crust formed upon it yet to support his weight, despite the snowshoe-like size of his paws. A lesser (or perhaps, wiser) wolf might have been tempted to hole up somewhere warm on a day like today, and wait for better travelling conditions. But the truth was that Lucien didn't really have anywhere like that to be. The lands to the north of these had been cruel and worse still than this place seemed to be so far. Lucien had contemplated the thought of turning around and going home, but there was nothing for him back there, either, was there? Nothing he wanted, anyway. And so he'd drifted along south, following a frozen stream here, a prey trail there, until he found himself... well, wherever he was now. Looking about as he went, he realized just how silent and almost oppressive the forest around him had become.

His thoughts were interrupted as his paw broke through the layer of snow once more, only to meet a tree's gnarled root as he tried to continue propelling himself forward. Luc's brisk pace had been brought to a sudden halt as he tripped face-first into the snow. Wincing, he pulled himself back up onto his feet in the next moment. "Pfffff-!", he grumbled as he snorted the stinging crystals of ice from his nostrils. At least no one was around to witness such a foolish move on his part. At that thought he was suddenly alert, ears standing at full attention upon his head as his eyes nervously scanned his surroundings. Everything seemed quiet, which should have had the young man feeling relieved, but instead he found himself hit by an unexpected pang of loneliness. Luc realized he wouldn't have minded at all if he'd spotted a familiar face laughing at him. Or even a stranger, or a damned crow, or anything at all but these silent, creepy trees. Everything had seemed so perfect during the summer and fall - he'd run with a group of other young wolves, and for a while it had seemed that the whole world existed simply for them to roam in their wild abandon, unfolding spectacle after amazing spectacle before their eyes. Then winter had come, and their youthful fellowship had broken apart - like a flock of birds hit by a sudden gale and sent spinning. Luc had often wondered where the rest of his friends might be, but the thoughts made him feel bittersweet, and he quickly pushed them to the back of his mind.

Setting off again, Luc was glad to see his paw seemed to be no worse for the wear. His breath puffed bright clouds in the cold air, catching the feeble sunlight that slanted through the naked canopy above. He wondered if this region had a name, or if it was bound to be another empty place that unfolded before him, serving no purpose but to buoy him along to somewhere else. Lucien was confident enough (perhaps foolishly so) of his capabilities to survive on his own, but it was beginning to grow painfully dull being alone all the time. He wanted someone to talk with, hunt with, fight with - he didn't really care which, just something to break the cold grey monotony of his recent days.

He hadn't even taken ten more steps when a single bark rang out, clear as day. Lucien froze in his tracks, lifting his paws as he turned 'round to face the direction the sound had come from. His jaws parted as he drank in the air, eyes searching the canvas of trees and dead underbrush and snow for signs of life, anything out of place. Whoever it was had come at him from an angle from which he couldn't catch their scent - almost as if they were hunting him. The yearling's tongue nervously flicked over his dark lips before he composed himself, squaring his shoulders and lifting his earthen tail a few degrees higher. Why didn't they show themselves?

Maybe it's some kind of game, he thought. At that idea, he tossed his head back and gave a loud bark in response, daring whoever it was to show themselves or ambush him or whatever it was they were gonna do. "Yeah? Who's there, a ghost? Why don't you show yourself already!" he called out. He still hadn't spotted @Iopah where she had crept up on him, and he didn't like not knowing where or what or who was watching him. He had never really been superstitious, but the idea of some long-dead spirit taking up residence in these parts seemed to almost make more sense than another living being. If it was another wolf, they really ought to reconsider trying to sneak up on him.

Just then, though, the still air stirred slightly, and he caught the scent of the other wolf. The scent on the breeze smelled like a she-wolf, not decay or whatever ghosts were supposed to smell like. "Listen, I'm not lookin' for trouble, okay?" He called out a little more calmly, hoping that the words would be enough to draw some sort of response. Of course, if she was looking for trouble, he'd be happy to oblige her.

It seemed for a long moment that his words had not had their intended affect. No one showed themselves, and Lucien's words echoed and died in the otherwise quiet forest. His second statement proved more effectual - a snort issued abruptly from the underbrush, and the young male's amber gaze flickered instantly to the spot, studying the woman who stepped forth. At first glance, she looked incredibly familiar, enough so that Lucien's eyes widened in surprise, and his jaw fell open before he caught himself and snapped it shut again. She could have been one of the Chastain clan, for all he knew - though he'd ever really only known one member of his blood-family beside himself. She shared his mother's build, though - the typical medium, feminine form of the Great Plains subspecies, fit and evenly proportioned, though her own coat was but a faded imitation of Ezra's autumn-and-snow coloration.

Her first words were not a greeting but a reprimand of sorts, delivered with a small wry smile which Lucien noticed and cheekily mirrored back at her. "Then it's lucky for me you aren't one after all... right?" He noticed too the nervous twitch of her plume. He didn't exactly like the idea that he was making her feel ill at ease, but neither did he like being scolded as if she really were his mother, and so he stayed where he was, shoulders squared and slightly tail raised, rather than moving to try and release some of the tension in the situation. Lucien had always been supremely comfortable in his own skin, wherever he was. He was not some pup, and he didn't particularly like to be scolded by anyone, let alone a stranger. Only her teasing tone kept his features set in a smirk rather than becoming sour. Teasing was a far better game than an ambush lecture about how to properly respect the dead.

Lucien listened on, drinking in the air with his nostrils as he did so. She said she didn't meet many wolves around here... did she live here or something? But no, he certainly hadn't smelled any borders, and mingled within her aroma were the unmistakable scents of others - a pack. So if this wasn't their home, why did she care? Why was she here, snooping on him? "Well, I'm not most wolves. I'm Lucien Chastain." he stated blithely, waiting eagerly to see what she had to say about that.

She said nothing until he had finished, instead standing there with her gaze flitting over him indirectly while she nodded. The momentary quiet was broken again as she gave her name - Iopah. Luc rolled the name over in his mind for a moment, affixing it to the image of the woman standing before him so that he wouldn't forget it if they ever crossed paths again. Iopah. It was a nice-sounding, unique name, which should make it easier to remember.

Her next words were an explanation of sorts, at chich Lucien's ears perked forward. A pack used to live here, but no more? If she came here to hunt, then it was unlikely it had been a lack of game that drove them off. Maybe it had been nothing... or perhaps these woods really were cursed somehow. Or, a more plausible idea occurred to him, her pack might have run them off if they were close enough to tread the same hunting grounds. His imagination began to weave away with the implications and possibilities, and he blinked when Iopah continued with a question, the runaway gears in his head grinding to a halt and processing for an instant before he responded.

"No, no one else... not even anything worth trying to hunt," he answered with a light shrug of his shoulders. It had been several days since he'd run into another wolf, and that hadn't been in this forest, anyway. "but, I only just arrived here," he concluded on an optimistic note. He wanted to ask about the pack that had once lived here and why they had gone, but it seemed to him that something about their encounter was still making the lady uncomfortable. Lucien had been starved of interaction of late (aside from one other he had met some days prior) and he feared that Iopah might decide to leave quite soon, and he would be alone again. Incorrectly guessing that it was their talk of ghosts and spirits that had unsettled the lady, he chose to ask about her instead. Plopping himself into a more comfortable sitting position, he let his tail brush back and forth behind him, sweeping across the powdery snow. "...You're in a pack, right? Is it somewhere nearby?" Perhaps she and the other wolf were in the same pack, or perhaps not. Either way, Luc was curious about this region, and the promise that it might hold more of his kind than he'd initially thought. Maybe he'd finally made it far enough South to stop running from winter's terrible death throes.

It was clear that his words had disappointed her somehow - she sighed and her posture seemed to fall, her stance no longer quite so proud. Luc's head tilted to one side, in concern that he had said something wrong despite his best efforts. Luckily, it seemed as if a change of subject was somewhat agreeable to her as well. His tail brushed uncertainly in the snow behind him as Iopah spoke of her pack. So presumably it wasn't them she was searching for find out here... at least not all of them. They may be worth paying a visit to, he thought, though sometimes it seemed to him as if all the packs he met held the same basic ideals at their core - work yourself to the bone for us, give us your life if we ask it, and trade your freedom for the security of the fold. Maybe they were different, maybe not. Lucien was still holding out hope of finding a group of wolves with a better sort of code.

Her next words pulled him from those thoughts. I guess she noticed, too, he mused. "I'm not sure, to be honest. Have you met any other Chastains? You look like... someone I knew," Luc responded. He didn't feel up to delving any deeper into it, unless by some odd twist of fate she did recognize the name after all, despite having said nothing earlier. This was the only real link or clue he had to his family and heritage, and though he had little hope of it leading him to any answers here and now, or ever, one never knew what might happen. He could imagine it - finding his way all the way here, just to find it was where he belonged all along. The idea seemed almost dangerously appealing, and certainly too good to be true... right? "I was born in the Stonecrop Hills, to the west of here," Luc added. Iopah didn't look like any of the Stonecrop wolves, making it seem even more unlikely to Luc that she'd have heard of the place, than her having heard of his family name before. To her, it was probably another meaningless tidbit of information. "I certainly don't think you'd have a reason to know me. I'm nothing but a traveler." A grin spread itself on his features once more at this last proclamation, more proud than any noble listing off a lofty title. I am nothing if not free.