For a place that could have been considered 'close to home', Modesty had never paid the river much mind. Now though, as she was looking which way to move next, she paused to consider the deep and fast flowing water. The fish seemed to be abundant, but were fish really a reason to move when they had islands surrounded by them? There was an orchard on the near bank, and she conceded that perhaps they could put the fruit to use for some sort of brewing venture, but would there be a market? It would also make good forage for pigs, if she could talk Jael into trying something new after the chicken disaster. She sighed, wondering why she bothered coming this far out in the first place. It would mean giving up one of their islands, and with the leaders so divided in their preference she doubted moving this far from the shore would be a consideration anyway.

“Speech.”

Not an island this time, but still plenty of water. Even for the dry heat of summer there vegetation here was thick and vivid green, no doubt thanks to the nutrient rich soil and the constant supply of fresh, running water. Approaching the river bank, he followed it a few paces, noticing how the sides had been eroded by time and floods, steep little drop-offs with roots peeking out from in-between the mud. He bet the fishing was good in these parts, saw the river branch off in several directions, feeding the rivers that cut through from the south all the way to the north-west.  The water itself was a murky green, fresh enough to drink but not something he really wanted to risk swimming across. He'd seen enough crocodiles and gators to last a lifetime here, he wasn't looking to be snapped up, thanks.

It was then he glanced up, noticing a black and purple shape on the other side of the river, pretty, if he'd cared to notice.

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Movement on the opposite bank catches her eye and she scans it before her gaze falls on a distinctive blue and red marked man. She wonders if he is related to any of the other space marked wolves she has encountered (but never quite made the connection between). Her expression is disinterested, her tail not twitching in greeting nor her lips parting to yell out a greeting over the din of rushing water. No matter, he is across a raging river and thus, beyond worrying about. If he had ill intentions she could be long gone before he made the crossing. And it didn't look like those wings would lend themselves to swimming through currents that strong if he did try.

Her attention turns back to the eroded banks, the crowding river birch trees, lush bunches of watercress where the current seemed to be less extreme (little pockets sheltered where their banks had fallen away to raise the riverbed). There were rushes and alders, poplars, and sycamores. Their roots helping to stabilize the soil where they reached, though some stretched exposed into the open air, before diving down into the raging waters below. She imagined they would serve well as nurseries for all the little fish, trying to eke out a living long enough to become big fishes.

Modesty followed the bank towards the east, where the sweet scent of decaying fruit indicated the orchard she had been considering as good forage. It seemed worth further investigation, and perhaps the river narrowed enough somewhere that crossing might be an option. If this place was on the list of potential territories, that would be worth knowing.

“Speech.”

Ronan regarded the stranger with just about disinterest as she offered him. He wasn't about to cross the river to maul her, and she seemed to share the sentiment. Both more interested in working out the lay of the land, to suit their own purposes. Ronan had explored quite a bit since his arrival, but he still felt every bit the stranger to these parts. Even the lush, green grass that grazed his limbs as he walked beside the river bank felt foreign to him. He had his own reasons for venturing out this way, but he couldn't help but dwell on just how different it was compared to what he was used to.

Bushes and shrubbery filled up most of the free space a few paces from the riverside, but there was the occasional tree that had rooted itself into the slanting earth. Spindly branches reached over the water channel, could probably support the weight of a bird or a lemur but anything heavier would cause the wood to bow and bend, maybe even snap if put under enough pressure.

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The sound of water still ringing in her ears, a sidelong glance to see the wolf on the other side of the river was still content to do his own thing, she turned her attention to what had once been an orderly orchard. Apples, pears and peaches stood in what would have once been lines, the area beneath them now a tangle of wild melon vines, laden with fruit in various stages of decay. One or two looked to be fresh enough to eat, but the rest were well on their way to producing next years vines. Her brain was ticking over, weighing up the pros and cons. Between the ample forage, fruit they could turn into liquor with some practice and ready access to fresh water, there wasn't a lot against the river. It was just the vast expanse between the islands and here that would prove to make it difficult. She would contemplate it further on her journey home. At the end of the day, was it worth a move?

“Speech.”

He'd noticed that the purple lady had moved on, thought it would have been more of note if she hadn't. And it was a good thing he hadn't attempted to cross the water as the dark shape of a large fish swam past. Long and angular at the front, sort of spotty like a lizard? He couldn't put a name to it, but once it decided to move it moved fast, a flick of its tail a slight splash and it was gone, further downstream and between the long underwater grass. Not that it would have killed him or anything, but for the most part Ronan wasn't looking to antagonise the wildlife. Aquatic or otherwise.

He moved on, brief spitted drops of water landed upon his pelt. It was warm down south, the air a little too humid for his liking, he imagined the rain water would be warm too. Probably didn't snow much in these parts, if at all, maybe once or twice a generation.

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