The wind whistled through the spires sending ghostly wails echoing through the Cathedral. The sound was ethereal and enchanting, and conjured up thoughts of wraiths and danger lurking in the shadows. She couldn't tell if the goosebumps that dotted her skin were from the whistling or the wind cutting through her fur. Of course she knew there were no ghosts here. Probably no monsters either, but she was going to let her imagination run wild with the possibilities. It was fun to think about such things sometimes. When the monotony of travel got too boring, for example. Sindre was eager for something to break up her monotonous days. Momentarily abandoning her daydreams, Sindre eyed the glassy slope before her. The wind whipped ice appeared smooth and without blemish. Her bi-colored eyes lifted to sweep across the surrounding terrain. If she didn't go down the slope it looked like she would have to go far out of her to get around it. She frowned and harrumphed to herself. Sindre was loath to change her course; she had no idea how far out of  her way she would have to go to find a less precarious path. Well, she had been wanting a little excitement, hadn't she? The slope was no soul sucking wraith, but hey, she'd take what she could. She stepped to the edge of the slope and looked down. It was a lot steeper than she'd originally thought. On a positive note, if she didn't smash her face in the process, she'd reach the bottom a lot faster. Three...two..one...GO! Sindre laid down on her belly and then kicked her way over the edge. For a moment she felt suspended, almost weightless at the edge, and then in the blink of an eye she was blazing a lightning fast trail down the frozen slope, leaving nothing in her wake but maniacal laughter. What she hadn't considered while standing atop the hill, was that the bottom would be equally slick. Paws scrabbling vainly against the ice, Sindre plowed face first into a bank of snow. "Talk" "You" Think

She couldn't comprehend why she was here with winter here. The snow piled up and the north was no stranger to the cold she'd come to know. Heather enjoyed the biting frost though - even with her fur wearing thin despite the attempt of her body to grow a winter coat. Stress and other bindings had most definitely run the young female down. She'd be four years old coming spring and she'd spent her life too fast too young and torn it down in the blink of an eye. Her groggy eyes struggled to stay awake as she shivered. Feeling her eyelids heavily resting as she sighed - she let her heart just want to stop beating. What a sad state of a hungry wolf. Heather wasn't one to usually wallow in depresion, self pity. She was hiding from her problems and it was driving her insane. Something wasn't right in her head and she wanted to fix it. As her jaw clenched she pushed her teeth together harshly. Emotions? What were those? She pressed her paws to her head and pushed. Letting the pressure build until she breathed out and let go. Settling her forepaws in front of her in the snow. She could see her breath - heavily as the skinny wolf then lifted her head. Another had flown themselves into the bank of snow from the slope above them. Heather's tired blue eyes suddenly blinked. She panicked slightly suddenly standing up and cautiously moving over to the now wolf sized hole in the snow. "Excuse me are you okay?" Heather asked, gently. Her paws pressed against the cold ice, sending another shiver down her spine. She probably should be looking for something to eat. Judging by the looks of her skin and bones she wasn't the most beautiful thing to be looking at right now. Heather didn't take notice, she never looked at her tired form. She'd simply gotten used to the pain that was constantly gripping at her sides these days. "Talk"

For a few moments after the impact she lay still to both collect her wits and assess the damage. This far north the snow didn't melt during the warmer months, so this particular snowbank had been here for awhile and Sindre could tell. Unlike the freshly fallen stuff that was all fluffy and light, this particular 'bank may as well have been made out of solid ice. It was so compacted that when she'd hit it, it had sounded like glass breaking. "Excuse me," a foggy voice from somewhere beyond the snowbank called out to her. "Are you okay?" Well...that was a good question. Sindre wiggled her toes for a moment and, once confirming that she could indeed feel them and that she was, in fact, not paralyzed (thank heavens), gathered them under her. With a kick and a wiggle, Sindre popped up out of the snow. She wiggled until she could pull her forepaws up and rest them on top of the snowbank. Once situated comfortably, she turned her attention to the stranger. "I think I'll survive," she said cheerfully. Yikes. It seemed that out of the two of them, the one that had just ran face first into an icy wall was faring better than the one who hadn't, because the stranger who stood before her looked a little...bedraggled to say the least. "Talk" "You" Think