The frozen dew was a sight to behold. Pleione had been struggling to adjust to the temperatures of her local home, the way the sun fought the chill, and the way the chill won over as it blew in over the sea. It wasn’t just that it was cold, her thick pelt was already prepared for worse, it was the way the humidity clung to her skin, and the way she still hadn’t managed to clear all the salt from her fur. Still, it wasn’t all bad. There were little things like this, the frigid air turning the morning dew to crystal glass around the remnants of flowers and yellowed grasses. For one precious moment Pleione let her mind empty and just admired the aesthetics, watching the twinkling of sunlight dance over the field before her as it slowly melted again in the growing heat of the rising sun. She had yet to feel fully herself since arriving in the empire. It was as if she had left something more behind her than just her home, like some essential part of her was missing now and evermore. It was stupid, it wasn’t as if staying would have changed anything, save guaranteeing she’d be a corpse by now. Foolish nostalgia. It made her sick. She felt lucky to be patrolling beyond the borders now, where this morose was less likely to be seen and interpreted as weakness by her peers. Of course, doubtless the Empress’ eyes were still on her. She could never let her guard down, never again, for the rest of her life. As if that was any different to the way she’d always lived.

Faith felt like she'd been torn in pieces. Her siblings had scattered to the wind, Modesty was off who even knew where but the fact the young woman knew where Pont had gone made it... Worse. The young Klein hadn't gone back towards the shrine since the long night when her grandfather had spoken to her near the border of the land she'd once thought of as home... But Pontifex was there, and she was here... And that was an ache she didn't think would ever dull. Sometimes she swore she saw him, the usual visions were lessened for these images of her brother.

It was one of those visions that pulled Faith to the Gully. A voice whispered for her to keep herself open, a reminder, life or Abraxas didn't always go as she might assume or plan. Not that she had much of a plan anymore. Faith gazed eastward, where she knew Pontifex was. A familiar scent reached her and for a brief moment her heart jumped, but it wasn't Pont, the scent that blew across the chilly winter breeze towards her was familiar for the pack scent it carried but the underlying smell... It was a wolf she hadn't met before. Turning dual-toned gaze towards the smell Faith spotted the wolf in question. Even with the distance between them Faith could tell the other woman was smaller than her, hardly a surprise all things considered.

Faith considered turning around, going back, she was hardly an overly social wolf and she still wasn't sure how she felt about the pack her aunt ran... Or her aunt for that matter but the voice from earlier returned, whispering louder and Faith sighed, closing her eyes and approached the earthen toned woman. "What has your attention?" She called out towards the stranger, keeping a safe distance, her tone was curious but also reserved. She'd caught the way the woman's attention seemed to be on the ground around her.

"Speech"

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It hadn’t taken long for Pleione’s emaciated form to begin filling back in. She’d retained most of her muscle mass despite the starvation, and now that pack life afforded her a steady diet she merely looked lean and slender instead of half-dead, her previous lush sheen already returning to her fur. It left her looking younger than she really was, like a scrappy, leggy yearling who had wandered away from home. Around some of the massive wolves from this land, sometimes she felt like a half-grown pup. It was embarrassing knowing that even at her full potential, she’d never truly stand shoulder to shoulder with someone like Venom. Mid-winter, it would be a long time still until she’d have a chance at her full potential. Every second that she wasn’t at her best felt like a gut wound painfully bleeding her dry. Pleione stiffened as a shift in the breeze bode her warning of a stranger’s approach shortly before a voice called across the field. Even from here she could see the way the giantess towered on slender legs like stilts, her fur glinting with flashes of pale blue like sunlight on snowflakes. Pleione’s ears pressed back flat against her skull, tail held stiff and level with her body, defensive and fully at attention in an instant. “Who’s asking?” she called back, as if she knew enough about the other packs to judge her as friend or foe by a name.