Tired, dark paws ascended the steep slope, slipping in the snow and bleeding as they struck a hidden rock. The she-wolf sucked in her breath harshly through her teeth and lifted her foot to lick at its pad. The taste of blood and charred earth, and she couldn’t help but wonder if this was a premonition for her stay in Nova Scotia. The pessimistic thought made the realist smirk, and without a sound she continued on her uphill trek toward the apex of the mountain range. She had tried to find the shortest section to cross over, but the altitude still made it difficult for her to breathe. Leaping onto a rock and pausing to catch her breath, she could see an expanse of territory beyond. The burned scars of the land receded into shrubbery, and the tangled masses of forests and cities alike sprawled out beyond.

Promising, Tomasa Santillian thought, smiling faintly. It looked like the grass really was greener on the other side.

Keeping her ears pricked (with the tips flopping over as usual) for the sounds of prey, she scampered down a short hill and nearly slid on the slick ground. Surefootedness was an acquired trait, however, and from the time since she first came to the mountain range days ago, she had learned the ins and outs of how to not fall to your death off a ledge. Having all four paws to brace yourself with helped; she had not been in optime form for days.

Very quickly, however, Tommy realized that she was not alone. She could smell another wolf, a young female like herself, in the area. Although she would normally skirt around the stranger and continue on a solitary route, she knew that she had no idea about these lands. Giving the other canine a chance could very well benefit her.

The wolfdog turned and headed toward the scent, leaping up another incline and finally pausing once she found a black and white pelt. She cleared her throat but did not say a word of greeting, instead lowering herself onto her haunches and gauging the other’s reaction.

The two-toned stranger finally turned around toward her, and pink-amethyst eyes flashed as they looked Tommy over. They were interesting eyes, as interesting as the sharp contrast of her pelt. Most eye colors in her pack were natural hues, from golden to brown and in some cases greens and greys. Vibrant colors like the other’s were rare to come across, and Tommy met them with a small lift of her brow and the tiniest twitch of her lips in a smile.

The black and white girl greeted her and then offered her name: Farore.

The reddish wolfdog nodded in acknowledgment of the name, and a few moments passed as she licked her sore paw again, cleaning yet more of the dirt and snow from the scratches. She realized after an instant that she should give her own name, and with a slightly sheepish look in her eyes, she opened her mouth to respond.

“My name is Tommy.”

Awkwardly, she hesitated and turned her pale eyes back on the view of the southern territories, everything that lay beyond the mountain range. The question that had been sitting quietly in the back of her mind came out as well, once more softly yet smoothly.

“Do you live down there?” Tommy asked, indicating the expanse of land that was the rest of Nova Scotia. She knew that she could probably figure out how to survive down there herself, but her father had told her stories of countless pack customs, and she didn’t want to make a fatal error. It was best that she find a native to explain the lay of the land to her. “I came from the south—the mainland south, not the peninsula here. I’ve been looking for a new home.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, though not in an unkind way, as she fell silent again and looked at the other young woman.

Tommy wasn’t the best at speaking with others or offering introductions, and while she did not actively think it, she was grateful for the patience of the other female. Sometimes wolves were put off by her almost aloof nature, but there were those who waited to see that she wasn’t unsocial; she simply wasn’t used to being social. The sound of the other’s voice put her slightly at ease, and her tail swished once behind her.

The white wolf shook her head at the question, and the reddish female nodded though her expression was rather deadpan. She was suppressing her disappointment. She wouldn’t be finding any help now.

A slight smile graced the lips of the ink-stained loner then. She said that she was searching for something on the peninsula, too: a sister, something slightly more tangible than a new home. Thinking of her siblings and the ache in her heart for having to leave them, Tommy nodded in understanding and sympathy. If she hadn’t been set on a different path, she would be roving the country looking for her own sister.

“Yes,” Tommy said simply in response to the other girl’s question. She smiled a little and turned her golden eyes back on the rocky slopes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of better help to you, but at least we won’t have to worry about being alone for this stretch of the journey,” she pointed out. Company, especially on these sometimes treacherous slopes, would be good for safety and for morale. As introverted as she tended to be, she felt infinitely more comfortable with a companion. Both of them would be heading south as strangers to the land.

“What do you know about this land of ’Souls?” the wolfdog asked, beginning the journey by leaping down onto a small ledge below them. There was a thin sheet of ice, but with all four legs splayed for balance and the ample space on the outcropping, there was little danger of falling. It hadn’t been a particularly difficult journey uphill, but descending might have been an entirely different matter.