Nostalgia pulled Drífa back to the Gale Gorge where her old pack had once resided. The herbal gardens were now in disarray but the plant life still persisted. She hovered about the garden before selecting a few sprigs of fresh chamomile. She had returned from gathering fresh lavender in the south and she was anxious to make a warm and calming tea that just might settle some of her nerves. She'd been restless of late. Dreams came and went. "Here, Halla." She set he herbs down at her companions feet. Halla, a Japanese macaque, had wonderful fingers and the monkey began to gently pluck off the petals and leaves from the chamomile, placing them into a clay bowl. In the mean time Drífa set about preparing to build a fire. The first step was a fire ring. She found a smooth patch of dirt and carefully started moving stones about in a ring. It was slow going but she was persistent. By the time the sun set she had a decent ring, she only needed one more stone to complete it. "I talk" | 'I think'

The battlefield held a great many wonders, but after spending the majority of her time there, the russet woman had become bored with the same barren landscapes. No, she craved something cold, refreshing, and somewhat resembling of her homeland. So she made the trek up north, her paws following a primal desire that lead her like a compass. She journey through various forests; one had trunks that knew no bounds, reaching for the heavens with decades of experience. Another forest was equally as impressive, however instead of growing towards the heavens, it seemed the red barked plants were focused on growing big and fat, the circumference of some of the trees trunks dwarfing the others in a landslide. With two such amazing territories already on her radar, Sylvia was eager to see what was beyond the next bend, her excitement for a new adventure shadowing her better knowledge. It wasn't until the last rays of sunsets were climbing the tops of the next forest, did she realize how quickly the day had escaped her. 

Too late to make it back to her den at the battlefields, Sylvia turned her attention on finding somewhere warm to spend the night. The wind was unbelievably unkind in this forest, wiping around her hairs in a wild frenzy. It was almost enough to make her eyes water and the tip of her nose burned with the nip of the chill. It was there she came up upon the gorge and deep down at the heart of the cavern, she could make out the sight of life moving about. "Thank the Gods." She mumbled into the wind and she slowly began her descent down the treacherous sides of the gorge. She was slow, the steepness causing her to use more caution than she normally gave. In time, she would make it to the bottom safely, and her violet eyes would gaze around the hallow hole that seemed to team with life despite being in the north. But her true goal, the one her sight settled on, was a wolf nestled around a particularly lush patch of growth. Slowly Sylvia would approach, and when she was a few yards away, she would call out; "Hello, lovely. Strange place to find so much life down here, isn't it?"

"Sylvia"

Drífa grinned as she found the perfect stone to finish her fire ring. She carefully used her paws to scoot it into place. The top was nice and flat, perfect for setting her bowl of tea on. Speaking of tea. She padded over to check on Halla's progress. The monkey had picked the chamomile clean and settled the petals and leaves in the bowl. Tea was typically made with dried herbs. Drífa had plenty of dried herbs back in Winterfell but she was saving them for the fall and winter. For now she was pleased just to have tea made from fresh herbs. To her it had a distinctive taste. Halla smiled at her and then moved on to the lavender, her deft hands scrapping down the plant to deposit the blossoms. Drífa started hunting for various sizes of sticks when movement caught her attention. Her silver ears flicked as she turned her head to see a young, earthen-pelted woman approaching her. She smiled "Hello, there. Yes, it is. We're partially sheltered here by the southern forest so that helps the herb meadow to grow." The southern forest acted as a wind break but it did not eliminate the wind entirely. There was still a bitter breeze chilling the night. "I'm going to make a fire if you'd like to join me. Are you familiar with creating fires?" "I talk" | 'I think'

The woman did not chase her off, but rather smiled warmly as Sylvia approached. Orchid colored eyes flickered to the nearby snow monkey, noting how it too seemed to be hard at work attending the herbs. "You must be a shaman, or healer of sorts." She commented, eyeing the silver woman skeptically. In all the healers of her homeland, each one had an oddity about them, and some were even dangerous if crossed. Sylvia, having little knowledge of herbal remedies and the art of spirits, was always wary of such wolves. At the mention of a fire, Sylvia's ears perked. She had never learned how to start her own fires before, though most of the times the fires in her homeland were more like bonfires; huge celebratory flames that more often than not grew out of control. As the chill of the breeze floated through the air once more, she couldn't help but crave the warmth of the flames. "I can't say I've been taught such a basic tool, as embarrassing as that is." She admitted sheepishly, her gaze dropping to the floor of the gorge where she suddenly noticed a ring of rocks in the dirt. Her brows knitted together in confusion, "is this a part of building a fire?" She questioned, violet gaze staring back up at the woman curiously. 

"Sylvia"

Drífa nodded. "Indeed. My name is Drífa of Winterfell. I'm a healer there. If I'm not mistaken you have the build of a warrior." She may not have been built like a tank but there was something in the way the woman moved that spoke of strength and ferocity. Halla finished scrapping the petals off the lavender. With both plants now in the bottom of the bowl, Halla lightly stirred them to mix them evenly. She then padded over and set the bowl near Drífa before nodding toward the strange. "I am Halla, Drífa's partner, a pleasure."

With the introductions made Drífa moved her attention back toward the fire and the stranger's questions. "There's no need to be embarrassed. There aren't many wolves in these lands that have such knowledge." Drífa set a paw on the last stone that she had added to the fire ring and nodded. "Yes, a ring of stones can help contain the fire, especially necessary in a place prone to wind." It was also where she was going to put her tea and other items but she didn't need to tell the younger woman that unless she were interested in healing arts. "The next step is to gather a number of dry sticks of various sizes. We'll stack them in the middle and add some dry grass for kindling. Something that will catch fire quickly and can then transfer that fire to the larger sticks."

Drífa set about looking for sticks, as did her companion Halla. She gathered a number of small branches that she could break down into various pieces. The largest would be set in the bottom, followed by the medium pieces and finally by the smallest ones.

Sylvia's crown shot up at the mention of a pack, presumably nearby. Winterfell, Drifa called it, and the russet woman would commit both names into her memory. It was the first time since coming to these lands, after meeting a dozen other wolves, that she had heard of a pack. She knew that her cousin ruled such a group, but when Valkyrie spoke of her raiding party, she failed to give Sylvia proper directions. Now here she was, wondering about the new land, trying to locate her cousin. Now, perhaps, she had a lead. A grin played her lips at the mention of her being a warrior, and she chuckled lightly. "A pleasure to meet you, Healer Drifa. I am Sylvia, and yes I am a warrior of sorts." A warrior without a pack or fellow raiders, didn't sound much like a warrior at all, but this stranger didn't need to know that. "Winterfell is your pack? Is there a female by the name of Valkyrie there?" She inquired, doubting her luck would be so great but nevertheless she had to try. Suddenly the snow monkey from before came walking over, and Sylvia narrowed her eyes as it spoke of being the Healer's partner. Odd, she thought, considering the monkey looked more like an exotic appetizer than a companion, but at least it was well mannered. "Greetings, Halla." She nodded awkwardly.

As Drifa began her lesson on building a proper fire, Sylvia would sit back on her haunches, closer to the circle, and leaned in to obverse the female's actions and soak in the information. She nodded as she explained the purpose of the circle, and chuckled softly to herself as she thought of all the times this knowledge would've been helpful. "And what exactly is the purpose of different sized sticks? Wouldn't it be more efficient to gather the largest faster?" She questioned, but got up to find small sticks anyway. The wind from above must've been strong enough to take down the small twigs from shrubs and young trees, as the floor of the gorge seemed to be littered with various small options. Sylvia would carefully collect them in her maw, a bit of dirt catching on her teeth if she was too aggressive with her gathering, before returning to the circle. There, she would place them down outside the circle, not wanting to ruin the building process if her twigs were not up to par. 

"Sylvia"

The stranger introduced herself as Sylvia and stated that she was indeed a warrior, of sorts anyway. Halla was quick to gather a number of sticks, her agile hands making the task a bit easier than it would be for Drífa. She scouted mostly around the location where she was planning to build the fire. There were a number of branches down due to the wind and heavy snows so she didn't need to look too far.

"Yes, Winterfell is my pack. I'm fairly new so I'm afraid I don't know everyone. However, I can't say I've heard of anyone in the pack named Valkyrie. Is this a family member of yours?" Drífa carefully began to break the sticks down and Halla joined her until they had a good pile of items.

"Having the various sizes will help conserve energy. With this wind it could take too long for a small spark to catch hold of a larger log and grow into a fire. We'll set the largest pieces in the bottom, then medium-sized ones, then the smallest ones atop those. This will create stages for the fire to grow in strength and seize hold of the larger logs at the bottom more rapidly." Drífa began setting the sticks into the ring, including Sylvia's. "These are excellent, thank you. I have some dried grass I'll use as the final piece." She spread the grass all over on top of what they'd just made. It would rapidly catch fire, even more so than the wood.

She bent her head and rummaged around in her back til she pulled out a few pieces of flint. She set one down at Sylvia's feet. "This is flint, if you strike it across the rocks we used to make the fire ring it will create a spark. Seize it between your teeth and move your head in one smooth motion to strike the flint against the rock. The most important thing is to be patient. It takes many tries in order to succeed." Drífa seized the rock between her teeth and moved to the opposite side of the ring. Facing perpendicular to the ring she lowered her head, sized up the distance then swung her head so the flint struck the stone. A spark leapt out but failed to do anything. She struck a few more times and continued working until at last a spark caught on the kindling. A small fire then slowly began to emerge, growing bigger and bigger.