She heard from some passing by that the Firefly Lake was a breathtaking sight. However, since it was not autumn - nor summer - the little specks were nowhere to be found. They were all sleeping - hibernating probably if they hadn't been killed by the frost. Wren approached the almost frozen lake, a silent 'hmm' in her mind. She loved to fish. It was perhaps her favorite thing to do other than friendly spars.

So when she had the opportunity to ice fish... Well, it was better than a hungry belly. Wren inspected the frozen sheet of ice before testing it. Her weight, even a slight paw step, caused it to break apart. She began to paw at the ice feverishly, making it clear a pool before she settled down. Making sure her shadow was hiding from the fish, she watched with bated breath as a fish darted toward her. She lashed out almost instantly, not so much hooking a fish but...

More like slapping it out of the water with a scoop of a paw. The prey landed with a heavy thud on the snow, flopping and flapping around. She dove at it, ending its life with a swift bite to its gills. Wren licked the smelly oil and blood from her lips and sat down. Dragging the fish toward her, she began to eat.

The spectre had traveled a couple days north east from the crypt, eager to get away from the stinking
catacombs and out from pack borders. She wasn't sure what to make of this land yet, or if she'd stay
at all. Assuming she could leave of course. She trusted her feet and sense of direction, but whenever
she began planning a sinking feeling grew in her chest. She might be trapped here, and she may
never see her family again.

Pale paws carried her towards a lake, frozen over by winter's chill. The smell of fish and fresh blood
drew her closer. She hadn't eaten in a while. Maybe she could charm a meal out of the fisherman.
Blue eyes focused on the figure by the lake, and more interestingly, the fish she had just caught.
She was brown, and Sybil found that comforting after talking to a blueberry in canine form.
Earthy tones reminded her of home.

She drew near, keeping quiet without sneaking. She'd approach but not speak, thinking back to
the boy she'd startled. Would she go unnoticed admist the sea of white, even while moving?
She would let the woman address her if she noticed, or chose to, standing a little more
than 10 metres away.

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Movement caught her eye and she looked up. Licking her chops free of stray fish meat and blood, she locked eyes with another blue-eyed woman. Though, she wasn't exactly a woman. If she had to guess, it was a yearling, but Wren wasn't good at determining age. The girl seemed a bit intent on a meal if she also had to guess. "Hey" she said now, addressing the other canine with a neutral tone. She wasn't intimidated nor was she threatened by a wolf drawn to the scent of her meal.

It was natural, and the girl was just looking. She hadn't darted forward and tried to grab it. She hadn't done anything that warranted a snarl. "You hungry?" And out of the goodness of her heart, Wren tried. She couldn't just... leave someone hungry alone. It wasn't in her nature. "I can catch another one if you want." Or maybe, she could try to teach her. Like she had to been taught so many moons ago. The thought was fleeting - pride, regret, sadness. But she moved on past it.

She didn’t make it far before the fisherwoman turned to face her, and they locked eyes. A pity, maybe
last time had been a one off. She stiffened, meeting her gaze with anticipation. So far her luck with
strangers had been good. Maybe she was still too cute to bite. She had thought those days were
behind her, before her first year, but you could never truly know.

The warm hide wolf addressed her. She seemed the honest type, the ones with not much else to give
but a smile and kind words. Whether you could live off their kindness varied greatly, but in times of
plenty some good talk went down just as well as a good meal. These however, were not times of
plenty, but Sybil would oblige all the same. “I would like that, thank you.”

She moved closer, placing herself by the water and next to the stranger. “I am Sybil, of the Pallas line.”
She said, offering her name but not demanding the lady’s. She would divulge that information if she
wished. The girl watched the still water, and observe the woman’s craft. She observed with a mild
interest, but nothing else. She had no interest in learning the skill for herself.

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It was a bit rude to offer a half-eaten fish to someone. Especially when it was bloody, almost done and drooled on. The girl seemed grateful for the assistance, moving closer. She was a pale thing, a wisp really. Seemed like she was a vagabond like Wren. There was no interest in leaning to fish though. While the girl was there and accounted for, her interest was not in learning. It was making sure she was fed.

The young woman shrugged it off. She already offered and there was no harm. Sybil gave her name though. "Wren" she added, moving away from the half-eaten fish and to the edge of the water. She did little else different. Tapping the surface of the waves, the dumb fish came back. Attracted by sound, ripples, despite there being blood in the water. One. Two. Now! She flashed a limb out, hooking a fish and dragging it up.

But she didn't do all the work. She more or less deposited the flopping beastie in front of Sybil, awaiting a clear chomp to end it's life. That or suffocate on land. Wren backed off, back to her own meal that she placed near the girl. If she wanted to chit-chat, she was here for it.

Sybil had hoped that with the utterance of her family name, she'd get a glimmer of recognition from the
wolf, a sign that she wasn't a stranger here. Alas, no dice.  The woman gave her a name, Wren. She
was a bit big for a bird, but her honey coat and masked face suited the name. She wore her warm
tones well, and made the girl wonder what it'd have been like if she inherited the honey blondes
of her father. Her eyes were big and blue like hers, but the colour on Wren's was richer.

She observed the shewolf as she lured the fish with a disturbance of surface tension. The creatures
came, hungry and eager, and the girl was surprised to see her catch one with her paws. It was a
technique she hadn't seen before, most fisherman she encountered caught the fish with their
teeth. Wren's reflexes were admirable, though maybe she just didn't want to stick her head
in freezing water.

The other wolf allowed her to make the kill, and she bent over the fish, almost daintily moving her jaws
around it. with a quiet snip, the deed was done, and the girl began to eat. Fish wasn't her
favourite. She preferred the small game, admittedly the only thing she could catch. She'd eat
all the same.

As for talk... Sybil didn't know how to continue. This was an adult, visibly stronger than her, and
talking about her family of moderate wealth might as well be asking to be kidnapped. She could
pontificate about the differences between fish and wolves like her family would when approaching
a potential client, but she was sure she wouldn't be able to do it as well as them. That, and she
wasn't even sure if these wolves had currency to spend. She'd have to settle for the mundane.
"Dreadful weather lately, yes?" she spoke, referencing the storm that had led her here. Maybe
it had affected other wolves too.

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"I guess?" Wren hadn't noticed a big old storm lately, or many smaller ones. She shrugged her shoulders "I really have just kept to myself the past week..." a subtle admittance she had been mostly alone "been too preoccupied with finding a den, a safe spot to sleep. If there's been bad weather, I bitch about it once and move on." She cracked a smile, even if it was true. She... had been lost in her own little world, seemed like. Sybil seemed to struggle with topics of conversation though.

"I travel" she went on, continuing after a heartbeat "I've seen plenty of weather, experienced plenty of climates... After a while, they sort of mold together?" She grasped for the right words here. Wren had a year on Sybil and more experiences. But the experience would come with aging up, making connections, and finding a place to belong "what brought you here?" She licked the last chunks of meat from her lips before pushing the finished fish to the side. Sybil was more mature for her age than some.

But she was also a yearling, and they could fake it until they made it.

"Speech"

Sybil ate as Wren spoke, taking great care to avoid smattering oil and blood on her fur. Ears had swiveled
in her direction as she did this though, trying to multitask as best she could. While it was respectful to give
someone your full attention when they were speaking, her empty stomach contested this with strong words
about her recent eating habits. Wren wouldn't care to much though, would she?

She admitted to not having noticed much problem weather. The storm must have passed her then, Sybil
was sure she'd be able to remember it if it found her. Bad things can seem worse if you're inexperienced
though, not that she knew or was aware of the fact. Truth was, for all her fancy talk and outward respect,
she was nothing more than a preteen. Wren had seen a tidier side of her because she was older and larger,
if she was the same size and age it'd be a different story. She was bossy and arrogant towards outsiders
younger than her, and overall could be a real pain in the ass.

Her ear twitched as she spoke about traveling. "I understand. Monotony is easy to find when you've
seen enough." Good to recognise the little changes, the new and the old can be one and the same.
She answered the woman's query, about a quarter-way done with her meal. She was a slow eater.
"Bad weather." she said with humour. Maybe the storm hadn't been too bad, but it had
been a bitter introduction to a new land. Again, she'd speak no questions and demanded no
answers from the other wolf. She could share as much information as she liked.

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Wren felt herself chuckle. Bad weather, huh? That's why it had been mentioned. She shook her head, a scoff leaving her lips. "Seeing as you're still in one piece, you're tough to weather that storm." It wasn't a compliment, but a matter-of-fact observation. If Sybil had been hurt, she would have displayed hurt. Instead, the girl soldiered on. Wren respected that if anything. If not a bit hungry, the girl was still alive.

"We'll chalk it up to part luck and part skill" the young woman joked "I can swim pretty well, but the wind seems to knock me over. Strange how that is" she trailed off briefly, shaking her head again as if to clear away a fly "but I haven't seen... everything. Not yet. Maybe I'll stick around this realm for a bit. See what it has to offer. What about you?"

She wasn't trying to pry. Wren was just curious.

"Speech"

Even if her statement wasn't a compliment, the girl took it as such, though quietly. Her ego was a hungry
beast, it needed frequent praise to sustain itself. "By design, I'm afraid." She was descended from an old
breed, of thick coat and elegant face. She held her ancestors at a higher esteem than herself, if such a
thing was even possible. Without her coat she would've surely frozen to death with what little meat on
her bones she had.

"I was not meant to hunt or fight." She admitted, not ashamed of the fact. "My destiny lies elsewhere."
Destiny in the sense that she had decided a while ago, and through her many changes had not gone back
on her word.

But the next question was... difficult. She wanted to go back, but could she? Should she even try?
Something in her flesh, her organs begged her to stay, to not worsen the situation. Instinct could
fail you, but she couldn't recall a time where it had failed her before. "I... I don't know." The
words felt alien, thoughts invasive, all muddled into a general state of confusion. She was
supposed to know. Knowing was her job.


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She clicked her tongue. There had already been a strong feeling that Sybil wasn't good for hunting or fighting. She had met many wolves on her travels that had skills elsewhere. There was no judgment, even if Wren believed that the girl should at least be able to hunt a bit. That was just a survival skill. Still, she had nipped the fish expertly enough. There was hope for instinct to kick in.

"It's okay not to know" she replied at last, though no sympathy was in her eyes. Sybil didn't need it, nor want it. "people tell you to decide this and decide that. They tell you to pick right away. Sometimes, you just need to feel out a decision. No commitments. No real loyalty to a cause." Not unless Sybil wanted to be.

But. "You just do you" Wren added "go where you want. Be who you want to be. You're still young. You have plenty of time to decide what to do." And there was no shame in that.

"Speech"

Wren spoke her wisdom, and all Sybil could do was stare solemnly at her dead fish. Not quite like her
lessons back home, but she'd heed it all the same. She took a moment to digest, face blank and body
still. She was committed already, she had made her own decisions, and yet the world took that away
from her. She was without foundation, and the way the stone walls creaked threatened great change.
Was it futile to try and return to what things were before?

She had decided, but the universe changed it's mind.

The girl resumed her steady work on the fish, picking at the flesh slower now. she appreciated the
advice. though Wren didn't have the benefit of the full context, her words were true and the
yearling appreciated the teaching. She would not respond, letting them both sit in silence
for a breath.

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[OOC: srry for the shortness! sleepy day today]

It was true. Wren didn't know anything about Sybil's situation. She let the silence continue as the woman finished washing, licking clean her paws now. She was hardly anyone special to give advice to, but she considered it a small comfort she cared at all. Some folks would spout nonsense about bloodline destinies and then look stupid when they failed. She didn't have that confidence. It wasn't blood that made a wolf, but a brain and blood.

However, she was more or less a mutt. A father who never looked at his daughter. A mother trying to raise the unwanted pup but ultimately giving up. Wren set out on her own when she was able. Never looked back. But darker things did happen... And she pushed them to the side. Mother was dead. Pops was dead. She had the surname Baines and nothing else to her name. No noble heritage to speak of. "It can seem like a lot" she began again with a shrug "just take it one step at a time."

Life, that is.

"Speech"

The girl had no ground to stand on, nothing to fall back to. But if she had, she might never have had this
conversation. She would've turned her nose up, left fish in maw and return home satisfied. In her ego
she'd never heed the word of a stranger in the way she had, not if she didn't know they were worth
listening to beforehand. Without foundation she was humbled, and while she couldn't recognise it in
the moment, it was an opportunity to grow.

She stared at the fish, now picked clean. One step at a time. Where would she go next then?

The world was still around them, with no way to determine how much time had past. "Thanks for the fish."
She said quietly, politely, as she rose to her paws and turned back south.

[>exit?]


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Digging the fishy remains into the earth, she gave a hum and a nod. Sybil had enough and Wren was not going to keep her. She flicked her ear with one final 'goodbye', saying nothing as she worked to bury the prey. The pale girl would leave shortly after. It wasn't like it was a voided conversation, but she knew that it was done. No use beating around the bush for more.

Wren glanced back at the lake. She saw more fish inside, swimming around. Attracted by the smell of blood in the waves. She didn't touch them again. Leaving the location herself after she finished, Wren was more or less a brown speck against the ivory earth. She didn't know where she was going either. Wasn't that almost wonderful?

/end

"Speech"