Gin's movements were stiff as she crossed the Grove. She'd slept wrong. That wasn't abnormal. Finding somewhere to tuck herself away was becoming more and more bothersome these days. The abandoned hollows in trees, slightly larger than usual fox holes, hollows that had been formed by wolves about her size... yeah. It was hard to sleep right in places like that, probably. Had Gin kept a normal sleep schedule, maybe her options would have opened up. With habits as they were, the pale girl preferred tucking away to sleep in places that blocked out the light. A yawn and a stretch, the girl did her best to try and chase the tension from her shoulders and the crick from her neck. It was sunset, and she had the whole day ahead of her. Still, with her unusually poor mood, maybe it would be best to go back to sleep. The pale creature would see how she felt after eating something. Maybe it would help... could it hurt? Catching it would, of course, be the problem. Squirrels were crepuscular, so if nothing else, Gin would be able to catch a few of the chubby bastards. While it wasn't anything incredible or extreme, it would certainly be something in the way of sustenance. On careful, near silent steps, Gin passed into the Grove. Her gaze was keen, searching out any passing prey. The air was thick with the scents of blackberries and strawberries... it was hard to maintain a bad mood in an environment like this. The ghost could be at least reasonably at peace for now. Now, if only she could find some breakfast.

Gentle lips - stained with the now memory of the small critter that had been more than enough of a challenge. no longer swift on her toes, or perhaps she never was. It had been an hours long journey, with the watching eyes of the great horned owl who ever now, simply watched from a distance and did not intervene. She thought at times, that she was being laughed at by him. The ruffling of his feathers when she asked a question, to the way he simply flew off to be absoulutely no help when she needed it. a very ironic creature, all who see's but never does. She used to think of that of her founding father - afterall. her creamy yellow eyes glanced forward, for she realized she had zoned out watching her toes shift in the dewey blades of grass that as a child she used to bravely charge through as if a chariot at war. Exploring with her head high and lips pressed firm - chapped and flakey even in the midst of the season. It made her jump, that sudden listening of another even if briefly. If she had been paying attention, perhaps she would have smelled them beyond the kissing hues of berries that reminded her of home, but for now it was just the memory that pushed her forward in looking for this stranger. Looking was an extreme word, and even for the introverted girl she wasnt sure why she was hunting for someone when frankly she had enjoyed her time alone. "Hello?" She kept distance, clever, a puzzle piece question to the engraving on the table, maples with broad wide leaves inbetween give or take 20ft.

At peace as she looked, as she searched. Gin was looking for dinner, and she wasn't afraid to scavenge. No, a traveler like she was couldn't pass up a meal. Gin knew better. Her steps were light against the dewy grass. They'd gotten so much rain lately, and in passing she wondered if the nearby rivers would flood. Maybe leaving Boreas wasn't such a bad idea after all... hm. She hadn't been this side of the Bifrost for very long, but it seemed she was better off down here, at least for now. As with all things, Gin's peace didn't last for long. A voice shattered the quiet, the calm of the evening. She froze, mid step. Where was the voice coming from? Ah. Slowly, the girl set down the paw that had stopped midair. A child-- no, that wasn't quite right. A yearling. Gin re-arranged her features, allowing for a softness to color her gaze. There was no reason to be evasive, there was no reason to be defensive. She could relax... she could relax if it wasn't for the social anxiety. That was still an issue, but still. "Hello," the greeting was soft, words carried on the breeze, colored by an accent that was too difficult to place. "Are you okay?" It's the first thing she thinks to ask, head quirking gently to the side. Why was the child out here alone? Was she lost? It took Gin a moment to think about thinks, but she figured that she was out on her own at the same age. "Are you a traveler too?"

"Yes" one word to answer the multiple of questions, even though the girl wasn't sure how true that answer was to either in the moment. she stays where she is, stagnant with her chapped lips firm together and the inner of her knees filthy with mud and the debris of being a unruly child. the hairs atop her spine rose in a moment of fever - when the wind blew and she was caught offguard as if it was something this woman was doing but she knew not of any of it. she as no mystical being of powers or lifted digression of the gods. wouldn't that be fun - perhaps that is what she left. "well, I live here." she began, her head tilting slightly as she realized that wasnt exactly correct, the end of her sentence lifting up for just a moment before continuing "well, close.." thats more than the stranger needed to know, she didnt need some random person finding her den and keeping it for herself. she, with great shame had slept in various creatures homes while they were absent with little to no worry, or so she would say.

Yes the voice came. Gin nodded, more to herself than to the girl. It was the same way she would have responded, given the circumstances. Her tail wagged. The ghost would do her best to seem nonthreatening. Heck, she probably would have had to try to seem like a threat in the first place. That was okay. Gin was doing alright. She wished some of the natural social grace, the natural poise, would come back to her. That would take time, yet. Still, she offered a soft smile to the girl.

"Would you mind showing me a good spot to get some water?" That seemed polite enough, reasonable enough, for Gin. She'd been wandering for a while, and was farther afield than she was accustomed to. Maybe the girl would have a good water source nearby, and maybe she'd be happy to share. "I'm Gin," she introduced softly. That would be helpful, hopefully. A name to go with her face. The ghost was doing her best, and that was really all she could offer.

Speech