To look at the sleek dark form that wove around the huge trees, one wouldn't have easily guessed the female to be blind. Time and care had given her body back much of its health, though the strength and lithe grace of her youth was lessened by the ravages of age and scars. Time and a great deal of stubborn practice had given her the intimate knowledge of her home that she needed to make her way around it with grace and very little hesitation. She had always shown a cold confidence to the world, and the loss of her sight from age had not taken that from her. Even when she occasionally walked into a spiderweb that some spider had discourteously built across her path, or stumbled over a fallen branch that had not been there when last she passed that way, she remained unphased by it. She simply accepted, tolerated, and moved on. This was simply the way life was now, and nothing gods nor mortals could do would change that. Time destroyed everything. Even the gods had their Ragnarok.

Pausing at the place she knew from unfortunate experience had a fallen tree across it - a small tree comparatively, that had only fallen so young due to a branch from a larger tree that had fallen on it and killed it the past winter, and had recently fallen itself - she carefully felt along the trunk down near the roots to where there was no branches to poke and scratch at her, then lifted her paws to the trunk and lifted herself to balance before stretching blindly until her paws once more reached the ground. Not long ago it would have been no effort at all for her to have simply leaped over the trunk, but she wouldn't be leaping anything anymore. Not when she couldn't see what she was leaping and where she'd be landing.

OOC: No Finnvi please. I'll be making a separate thread for any Finnvi that want to thread with her.

Faelene moved with arrogance, elegance and grace. Each step she made, each rhythmic beat her paws peppered against the ground was struck with purpose and precision. She was a product of a very noble group of wolves who were proud of their traditions, proud of their heritage but she was also the last. Her people were gone, her family, her caravan all but a forgotten memory lost in time. Did it wound her? Almost every day. Did she let it show? Never. She buried those feelings of loss and loneliness beneath an untouchable aura of majesty and a tongue sharper than any fang... which is why when she came upon the dark hued femme, Faelene did not speak. Mos of the common plebeians were beneath her, unworthy of her time or lingering attention... but something about the slow hesitance the femme used as she scaled the fallen log drew Faelene's keen attention. Her tail flickered.

She waited until the woman moved slowly up and over before her maw dared to part and her vocals tangled through the air. "You are blind." The knowledge hit her sharply and now that the femme was closer, Faelene could see the fogginess that clouded the woman's iris. Faelene's tone was sharp, her accent thick. The svelte creature had called Romania home once and English was most certainly a second language. "How do you live with such a potent weakness." It was presented more like a statement then a question and while the words might be perceived as harsh, they were honest in their brutal curiosity.