Traveling with Wretch was all good and fine with the girl, but she wanted to explore, to stretch her legs and run, to see the sights. That was what she came here for after all. It was this that had her sneaking off to ride Rhaego in the early morning hours while Wretch was still at sleep. She wore the hawk feathers in her hair today and they streamed behind her in her blonde hair as they galloped along. Rhaego seemed as anxious as she and more than willing to run and stretch his legs. Both girl and horse galloped along happily, Kira unable to help herself as she laughed and chuckled, urging her stallion on with a gentle tap of her heels on his side. He shook out his mane and obliged, whinnying. It wasn’t until they came upon several bodies of water ranging in size from puddles to massive lakes that she ordered her stallion to halt.

She leapt gracefully from his back and patted his neck happily before walking out, gazing in wonder at the world around her. The sunrise reflected back and refracted a million times over. It was…dazzling. Her cold silvery yellow eyes gleamed in the light as her steps brought her closer and closer to the waters edge. Her reflection danced and shimmied before her on the wave and she peered into its surface. Her tawny features grinned back at her, warm and welcoming. She tucked some of her creamy blonde locks behind her ear, her fingers brushing against one of the two vibrant red and brown feathers. Her fingers dropped to the pouch about her neck and she caressed it fondly, hardly aware that she was touching it at all. Its presence brought her warmth and comfort, memories of home and family, of smiling faces and loving words.

She missed them, but she was still certain that leaving them was the best to do for her own self. She longed to see the world, longed desperately for adventure, To see new faces, new places. She grinned again and passed her hand over the water, her reflection dissolving and changing and she withdrew to look on the sunrise. With nothing further she fell to the ground and kneeled, eyes closing and hands in her lap. “Blessed be Father Sun for I look upon a new day. Envelop me in your radiance, guide me and keep myself, my family, and dear Wretch safe so we may see the day pass into night to praise Mother Moon once again.” When she rose she felt refreshed and renewed, and right with the world.

She gazed on the waters with reverence as they reflected a glorious sunrise. It shimmered on the waves, crimson, yellow, and orange; waters of fire. The light tawny girl was a religious one, devoted to the two gods of night and day. She would often gaze into the flames of her campfire by night, seeking the presence of her god, for the sun was a god of fire, destructive, and powerful, worthy of reverence. The moon goddess was more forgiving, a mother, watching over her children by night. “Sleep well Mother Moon.” She said softly before an unfamiliar voice came to call out to her from the distance. She jumped, startled, completely unaware of the silvery Luperci male not far off. She was under the impression it had been just her, Rhaego, and her gods, but she was mistaken. Her head turned sharply to the one who’d called. He was jean clad, and not far from her own age. Her silvery yellow eyes began to trail further down the line as she noticed the horse. She was not dismayed by his informality and soon offered up one of her warm smiles.

Without further delay she approached, her blonde locks flayed out behind her, the hawk feathers ruffled by the breeze. A gold chain about her neck supporting a gold pendant inlaid with a gleaming red stone flashed at her neck. It had been the result of a trade not long past, payment for her gift of leather. She was not often without it, enjoying the blaze of color and life it brought to her two-toned pelt. “Hey, yourself.” She grinned pleasantly. Her eyes fell to the horse not far from him and her smile warmed. “What a lovely animal you have.” She said, admiringly as she looked at Buck. She raised a hand to pat him, but turned her eyes on the grey boy, questioning. “May I?“ In the distance a snort was heard, but the girl did not address it. Her stallion was often moody, especially when she was so near to another of his kind, or even her own. He called out to the other horse from his spot in the grasses. “You must forgive my friend over there, he’s the jealous type.” She giggled as she addressed both boy and horse, uninhibited by the usual caution that Luperci often displayed upon meeting. She was still young to the world, and unbeknownst of its troubles. Her sheltered family life instilling in her a disregard for social norms, and desire for closeness. “I’m Kira by the way,” she offered with another grin, “and that, is Rhaego.” She gestured to young red/brown mustang in the distance.

Kira had never known the struggles of life on her own, and it had taken leaving her family for her to realize that it wasn’t as easy as she thought. She was undaunted, however, for she was free to do as she pleased, without worrying over a niece or nephew. It was more fun this way, an adventure ready to be unfurled. She did not know what each new place would bring, the sights, the smells, the wolves. She was more than willing to be caught up in life’s flow, drifted along the current. It was chance that she’d happened upon someone now, and she’d make the most of it. She giggled a moment to see his goofy looking grin, but soon threw a paw to her lips to stifle the chuckle. She did not want him to think her rude. It wasn’t often that she was greeted in such a way. Wretch hardly grinned, and the dog she’d met wasn’t entirely friendly.

She approached the stallion with slow and careful steps, though there was no fear in her whatsoever. As her hand cupped his nose she heard Rhaego snort and she waved the other hand in his direction. The mustang seemed to give up on his protests and turned sullenly away to pick at the grasses. Her eyes darted to Ahiga for the briefest moment in assurance that she had her horse well under control, before turning her attention back to Buck. Her ears swiveled attentively as the boy introduced himself and his horse. She smiled fondly, and stroked his nose. “Well, hello, Buck, what a handsome horse you are.” She cooed in a sweet and soothing voice. She looked up to Ahiga then, still with the same warm grin. Her eyes seemed almost silver in the dawn’s light, the coldest thing about the girl in truth, and it was something she had no power to change. She was often conscious of her eyes, longing for the warm doe brown or burning amber that other wolves sometimes possessed. The color seemed altogether out of place, oh, what she would give to have beautiful amber eyes, the color of her beloved god the Sun. But she was not one to be shy, and her gaze remained upon him.

“Ahiga,” she repeated absently. “What a silly name.” She took in the sight of his lanky, growing body, not the least bit aware of her other hand which was rested on the horse’s snout. It occurred to her that he might take her observation as rude and she quickly corrected herself. “Oh, silly in a good way, I mean!” She said hurriedly. “It suits you.” She turned her face away for fear of a creeping blush. It was the first time she’d been around a male, let alone one her own age and her usual fearless demeanor seemed to be crumbling. “It’s just my name is so plain. Ahiga…Is unique. Really, what I’m trying to say is…I like it.” She turned her face back to the pale boy, peering at him sheepishly from beneath her lashes. Her hand crept up to her neck as if pulled by an unseen force and she caressed the leather pouch that hung there. It rested in the little nook just between her collarbones. She often reached for the pouch in times of discomfort and loneliness. It was the only family she had now out here in the Canadian territory. The pouch served as a container for her great grandmother’s ashes, it had been passed to her with the promise that she would one day set her to rest. Her grandmother had said that her mother had always wanted to travel, but family and tradition had always weighed her down and made her dream nearly impossible. When Kira had approached her family with the intention of leaving it had been gifted to her, so her great grandmother could share all the adventures she was sure to have. It gave the girl comfort that, in a way, she still had family.

She giggled at Ahiga's expense, letting her eyes stray back to the dun colored horse bemusedly. She toyed with his mane a couple moments. Her tawny ears turned in the boys direction and when he jested, softly as it had been, it was overshadowed by her laughter. She burst out in a new torrent of giggles, hand reaching up to cover her muzzle. Whether it was truly so funny didn't matter, for some reason she just couldn't get a hold of herself. Her face reddened with embarrassment with her sudden outburst. The giggle soon subsided and with shining eyes she finally dared to look up at him. She took an interest in his silvery hair for a moment, contemplating how lovely it would be to braid it. She marveled at it, fighting the urge to reach out and touch it as she would have with a member of her family. He seemed to want to object to her words and she looked bashfully to the ground again, prepared to explain them, but he soon relaxed.

Her head tilted subtly at his explanation. “He fights?” She queried. “I wonder what tongue that is?” She shrugged lightly and stroked the ruby at her throat. Her brow was furrowed just the slightest. The crease eased as a hint of movement caught her eye. He was coming moving towards her. As he drew ever nearer a blush crept into her cheeks and she looked sheepishly down at her toes. “Well, that’s a good thing, I think? People shan’t confuse me with anyone else, then.” She shook her head and mustered the courage to look into his eyes. Green, and dazzling. He was all silver and snow. ‘Moon-blessed.’ She thought to herself, and she took comfort in it. When she noticed she was staring so long into his face she turned her head and busied herself with the stallion’s mane again. An ear twitched before she drew her eyes slowly back to him with a passing thought, a grin caught the edges of her muzzle. “Ahiga..." She started. "Could I…braid your hair?”

Kira watched him intently as he seemed lost in thought for a few moments, noting every twitch of his silvery brows. When he finally spoke up she perked her ears in interest. “Tribe members?” She queried softly, her brows creasing in the slightest. “You do not live alone, then?” The question was more observation than anything else. The girl looked around them once. There was no one but the two of them at the present, she wondered where he had come from. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve been amongst more of our kind, can you tell me about your tribe?” She paused a moment and shook her head. “I’m sorry to ask you so many questions Ahiga, I just feel like I’ve been alone for so long.” In truth it hadn’t been all that long, but the girl was young yet, and this was her first venture out on her own without anyone from her family to accompany her. She had to set up her own camp, hunt for herself, and provide and care for her horse. This world was all so new to her as was it’s occupants, and by night it was just her and her horse. Thank the gods she’d yet to meet any of the land’s darker occupants. She’d be all too easy of a target with her friendly nature and maiden‘s innocence.

When he spoke the strange tongue she listened intently, giggling with delight. “What did that mean?” She asked with a wag of her tail. She found she was no longer hiding away from the boy before her, no longer did her gaze stray earthward, but for the few moments here and there when their eyes met. She felt quite comfortable with the lanky, silver haired youth, though strangely self-conscious. Her family often remarked on how pretty their little girl was, but she just wasn’t so sure. She was all dun and cream, not moon-touched like the boy before her, nor the deep russet of her elder brother. Her fur seemed so plain in comparison, so ordinary, but if there was one thing she did like about herself it was her hair. It was a lustrous golden blonde the reached far down below her shoulder blades. She groomed it daily, brushing away the tangles, sometimes braiding a strand here, tying in a red-tailed hawk feather there. It was voluminous, and framed her face nicely when the wind stilled. Her fingers strayed to her hair in her moment of thought and she found herself twirling a strand idly between nimble fingers.

The boy seemed a bit taken aback at first by her out of the blue request, but seemed to find his smile again soon enough. Her tail wagged in response, and she found herself following close behind as he seated himself on a rock for her convenience. She reached for the silvery strands with some hesitation, but once her fingers finally found it she tousled it gently. It occurred to her that she had nothing to tie it with and she quickly darted off towards her pack where she had left it. She was back soon enough, and with her comb as well. She worked the tines through the back of his hair a few times, careful not to snag. Her fingers were dexterous and set to work with skill and familiarity. She found a braid on either side of his head, undoing the ends in order to work them together towards the back of his head. Once she joined one to the other she continued the braid until its length was spent. She marveled at the way the strands caught the light, and tied it off at the end. When she was done she took a couple steps back to admire her handiwork. It was much neater this way, but she had a sneaking suspicion the boy liked his hair a bit disheveled, so she’d made the braid a bit loose. “There, all done.” She said admiringly.