Tired and cold paws heaved the wolf forward with a begrudging grunt, his body peppered with snow that contrasted against silvered pelt. The far North, where Serpentine had roamed to find his family after no luck at any of the locations behind him. And here he arrived, to a white wasteland with thick icicle spears sticking up from the ground. A cold air harassed his face and body constantly, forcing him to pin back his ears for protection against the biting chill whipping at his features. Not a soul seemed to cross his path in this Northern land of snow, pawprints only made by Serpentine as he struggled to cross the wasteland of ice and powdery snow. Heaving a billowing plume of air, the man took another step and sighed, soon having doubts of finding his remaining family. Luckily, Jade was found in the West and since then, the male had traveled North in search of Lorne and his parents. Stopping his push into the wasteland, he turned around to look behind him at the leading pawprints following him. Fur rustled by constant breeze, chilling his skin underneath the thick fur wrapping his body. Was there a point to this trek, was there anything left to search this far North? Serpentine stood in his place, locked by concerning thoughts and questions making him rethink his whole journey. "Speech"

Azariah had headed more north after helping the younger girl, Eira. The faeries that so often frequented the north had seemed to all but disappear, a fact that made the monochrome witch sad. They had been so helpful when she had first come to the northern region, aiding her in social life as well as how to function in the cold. Though these were things she had already known, it was still nice of them to put themselves out like that. Now they were all but gone, only a few left to huddle together in frozen niches and in no mood to socialize or help her out. The creatures were surprisingly cold, though Azariah should have expected nothing less from the ice-blooded. With her skull mask firmly shoved on her face to help keep her sheltered from the cold, the beauty made her way to the cathedral.

Before long, the scent of a male brushed through her nose on an icy wind, and Azariah spied the paw prints on the ground that suggested the male had headed in the same direction she was going. Nerves bundled up, but she tried to keep herself contained. The witch continued on her path, hoping that the stranger wouldn't be some big baddie out on a warpath. Soon, she came upon the dark figure of a wolf, the same one she had scented on the wind and saw the path of. Her masked head tilted and she trotted forward a bit. Her paws did not make any sound, even in the snow, but the bell on her collar did. The tinkling sound helped her to announce her presence, in case the wolf was one that spooked easily. After all, Azariah moved like a ghost, with an ethereal grace and silence to her steps that made her appear even more spirit like. Her mask hid her white hooded face, but the blood red of her eyes stood out, lending even more to her supernatural aura.

Azariah watched as the male seemed to be indecisive, and she wondered what might make him so. Then she saw them. Ice sprites had decided to play a game with the man, blowing icy wind at him and making his trek almost impossible. One looked up and froze, alerting the others who promptly disappeared. In reality, Azariah was simply staring off into space with an odd, annoyed look on her features as the biting winds died down. Though, no one would be able to tell her that the sprites weren't real. "You seem to be having a tough go of it..." The woman said smoothly, though it held no confidence as she approached. She kept her distance though, deciding to keep a few feet between them in case he decided that he wasn't friendly. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad interaction, Lucifer may have been a fluke in this land. Most of the other wolves she had encountered had yet to try and kidnap or seduce her. Luck could be on her side, right?

Walk. "Talk." Think. "Umbra."

Art by MONSTER

The soft tinkle of a bell gracing his cold bitten ears, the golden eyes looked over with a solemn stare before his eyes widened in surprise, paws reeling him back a step or two in surprise and shock. So grossly captivated by her facial cover, the gentleman had no real notice of the winds dying down around him. "Whoa." Breathlessly he spoke, staring at her with awe and admiration while he realized his flaw and shook his head correcting himself. "Good god, I'm so sorry. I'm never that rude. You took me by surprise is all. Yeah, it's rough up here, and being my first time wandering off this far North... I don't think I had success on my side." The end of his sentence relied on a soft chortle, slowly easing into conversation with the new wolf. His nose worked quietly to gather information from where he stood. She was of feminine nature, different smells surrounding her as though she'd wandered before. Yet the cold smell of snow clung to her like a bad habit, signifying she could have been in the North a lot longer. Goldenrod eyes turned to the area they stood in, open and barren other than ice spires standing up from the ground to point up at the sky. Snow clustered around their paws and the ground like a blanket, thrown messily to the side, everspanding across the earth. "The name's Serpentine, I'm here in search of my family, but I think I've just been wandering at this point." He admitted bashfully, turning his gaze away for a moment before returning his stare to her outstanding gaze peering at him from the depths of the skull, fit properly around her own. "Speech"

She was so used to wearing her mask that she hadn't even realized she would startle anyone, Azariah met his words with a smile that tried to be warm. Her dark ears twisted and turned on her head, ruby eyes turning to see some kind of structure nearby. Having lived on the Forgotten Isle for a long time, Azariah knew such places were warmer and easier to shelter in. "It would be easier to hear you over there." The winds had shifted again, swallowing the male's words until they were just a jumble of meaningless sound.

Turning toward the building, Azariah hoped the male would follow her. It was the only available shelter nearby anyway, if there was wisdom in the wolf then he would. Her bell tinkled against her chest like a beckon in the icy winds, and her mask helped to keep most of the snow away from her blood-colored eyes. Umbra stayed tucked into her scruff, unwilling to fly in such awful conditions. Soon, the witch was in the sanctuary of the broken cathedral. The wind didn't bite as hard here, and it would be easier to talk.