A silver moonbeam curled in the shadows of protruding fingers of mountain. A pool of light, glimmering slightly in the morning sun, but guarded by trees and birdsong. Stirring occurred slowly when the sun drew itself higher into the air, above her head, she blinked her eyes open. Stretching her dainty paws forward, Kuutamo watched the reflection of the sky in the lake on front of her. She had scented no unknown wolves on her travels here, had washed off the brine of the sea and then – slept the sleep of the innocent. She never dreamed of those she’d sentenced to death; never saw their blood staining the rocks of judgement. Fortunately, even their eyes couldn’t broker anything in her. She didn’t lack compassion – now, but a season ago, her life was different. Crossing her slender muzzle over one slender leg, she heaved a soft sigh, not even caring about the fact that her silvered shape would be clear to see.

She had mountains at her back, reminding her of home, and that helped to acclimatise her to this new place. Her swim to this small, secluded island had been invigorating – a cold breeze had chilled the waters and the breeze enough that she’d shivered and hidden from the cold the best she could, tucking her nose below one paw, curving her tail in close to protect her face. Now though, daylight had warmed the air, and she growled in enjoyment as she shook herself off, her forest-green gaze seeking out the trees that surrounded the lack. Dancing steps, devoid of the limp she’d had the night previously, helped her to move with practised elegance through the tickling grasses, her tail held on an even keel with her spine.

Even her head was held up, fur-covered ears neatly pricked, and nose tilted up, flaring occasionally as she dragged scents from the massive island she’d, honestly, fled from instantly. She was shy in a way that her mask of confidence would always hide. She wouldn’t show any wolf fear. She had faced her brawler sister down, come away with pain and blood and occasional lameness. She had survived her mentor, which hadn’t been easy. She had succeeded in escaping her world, finding a new place, hopefully a new home. As she stood, paws lightly dimpling the lake at the edge, she stared down at herself, blinking those bright green eyes and admiring herself. Only the scar under her left eye marred her face, but she would still smile, flashing bright white teeth briefly before shaking her silvered pelt off from dirt. Just in case someone showed up, she wanted to make sure she presented the best of herself she could.

 Words "Speech"

The swim had not been an easy one, at least not for her fragile frame. Ora was constantly moving, as if she were a feather being blown by the wind. The gaunt female never stayed in one particular location as it was against her own moral compass to do so. However she was always silently observing others, watching from afar and gaining intellect even if they were only strangers. Her childhood had prevented her from knowing any social etiquette and Ora had become quite comfortable with being on her own. She preferred to watch versus engaging in actual conversation. The water had been freezing, chilling her to the bone. By the time she pulled herself from the water she was shaking violently from the cold but the slightly emaciated woman could only cackle quietly at herself. Foolish of her to go for a dip but there wasn't anything better to do around here. It took some time for her to regulate her body temperature again, her wispy fur making it nearly impossible to truly stay warm. Eventually though the tremors came to a halt and she was able to relax ever so slightly. It was fairly early and Ora hadn't expected to come across anyone until well.. she did. She noticed the woman long before she would even see her as she was tucked a few paces away from the river bed. She watched her ever so curiously as she stared at her own reflection, smiling down at the water. Ora picked out the scar beneath her eye and pondered how she got it, but she did not speak. Merely observed and waited. Ora knew she would notice her eventually but until she did she would not bring attention to herself.

She heard the birds still and silence for a moment. That was her first warning sign, one that said she wasn’t alone any longer. Her tail remained even with her spine, her jade eyes flashing slightly as she stretched her short, lean frame out. It was clear she was built small, born compact. Her nails gripped the ground as she heaved herself up into the air, ears pricking slightly as she, for a moment, feigned lacking the awareness her upbringing had instilled into her. Instead, she’d shake herself off once more before she could straighten out and turn those almost unsettling green eyes upon the exceptionally skinny woman, her ears politely inclined forward. She would not speak for a few moments, watching, instead with her head tilted slightly toward the right. She was taller than the woman, herself, though she was clearly the younger of the pair on the small island.

But where her fur was the pallid silver of the moonlight she bathed in, her darker spine fading out lightly, this woman was as slender, as fragile as a flower bending in a stormy gust. She was white – true white – with earthen places upon her body, and eyes that almost matched Kuu’s own. She stretched a little more before licking her lips, her ears remaining pointed toward the other woman. With a sweeping movement of her muzzle, marked toward her own scarred chest, she’d blink once before introducing herself.
Kuutamo. Her voice would be soft, a murmur on a dream in the middle of a summer day. But it still spilled between them, a clear invitation to the other woman to speak. To introduce herself. Kuu just refused to offer her surname, it offered too much opportunity for her to be known by others who had heard of it.