climbing to the sky

Katja inclined her head slightly; the girl seemed unsure of what she was asking, and in her uncertainty answered the question from the emotional, rather than physical, side of things. The beauty of a place was irrelevant, though it was indeed that. "The north is an inhospitable place, for those who do not seek to understand it. The winters are cold, and harsh, and the other predators are hungry and dangerous. Prey can be scarce... but see here." She stopped at the foot of one of the trees and scratched at the leaf litter, turning up a good amount of cracked and chewed acorn shells. "Midden - the leavings of squirrels. This land is filled with them. Breath deeply and you will smell both snowshoe hares and cottontails. There are elk, and bear, and deer. Everything you can find in the south, you find here. What you don't smell are wolves, packs, because they cannot survive here. Not like Yfir. The north breeds resilience while the south breeds naught but indolence. Come." She moved to walk along the leaning trunk of the tree, dull claws digging into the bark for balance, striped tail unfurled behind her, and sent a cool silver glance back to the girl. "If you can, a high vantage point will afford you the best knowledge of a land."