Tsuga crept north, trying to pick up any trace of the kid's scent. He felt awful, truly. She wasn't his responsibility outright, but he'd given his word that they could travel together and that he'd see her safely to somewhere that suited her. And letting her get swept off by a mudslide probably wasn't the best way to go about that, huh? The memory of that night was hazy and washed out by adrenaline, and he'd spent enough time running it back that he knew the line was starting to blur between true recollection and just hopeful guesses. They'd been heading north... mostly. Or at least threading their way between pack lands, and had chosen to go the long way around some less hospitable terrain. But ever since he'd zigged and zagged all across what he thought was familiar terrain, and come up empty. So now it was time to expand his horizons. Galena had to be around here somewhere, and he'd be damned if he let her go without knowing he did everything possible. There was a real chance she hadn't made it out of the storm, but the amount of guilt that clouded his mind at that notion was not to be borne. Not unless he wanted to spend the next season or two vomiting up guilt every time he tried to choke down a meal. He shook his head to chase the thought away. No one was dead until you saw their body, and even then who knows? He'd met a Ravenlocke or two who'd probably swear even corpse wax could be healed with the right arrangement of words. For now he'd scan the tundra for any sort of familiar sight or scent, or even just a local who might have seen a charcoal and tawny yearling wandering through over the last few days... Necromancy would have to remain third or fourth down the list, at least until he was mentally prepared for more drastic measures.  "Talk" "Listen" Think

It was growing colder in the north. Prey was becoming scarce, and even more so as disease ravaged the lands. Hunting even a deer became unpredictable and worrisome. If he ate their meat, would it get him sick too?

Prowling through the barren landscape, following along a crumbling wall, an idea came to mind. A trail of hare tracks led through the fine layer of snow and over a low spot in the wall. Quietly as his bear paws would take him, Ursus moves to investigate the tracks. Lowering his nose, he scents the ground, noticing that it hadn’t been long since they were last here.

Glancing around, he wonders if he has enough supplies in his satchel to craft a trap or if he’d need to gather some first. All he would need were some pliable branches and some rocks to hold it down. The rocks weren’t a problem, but the branches might be. With the dry air and an even drier wind whipping across the open field, it might be unlikely to find anything of use.

Spotting a patch of pines not far off, Ursus heads there. Midway, his senses alert him to someone nearby. On edge, his bright, owl-like eyes scan the surroundings until they land upon the chocolate and teal figure. Tilting his nose up, scenting the air once more, he contemplates whether to avoid the wolf altogether or keep an eye on him.

Continuing to the pines, sweeping his quite literally massive bear paws over the ground in search of usable twigs, his gaze keeps flitting over to the wolf. Something about the male’s expression screams lost to him. Ursus wasn’t necessarily the more socialized wolf, but if Senua were here, she’d most positively bop him on the paw for not being at least somewhat helpful.

Keeping his position beneath the tall pine, his paws still moving in search of his twigs, he lets out a calling chuff to the wolf. A few seconds pass as he watches, assesses the reaction, before speaking. ”Something on your mind?” Ursus speaks in rumbling deep baritones, likening him more and more to a bear than a wolf.

"speech"

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