Frosty toes.
#2
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table © Jenny/Kiri

OOC: WHOOO~ 502. :3


Sylvie curled in upon herself, faded moonlight-checkered scarf wrapped tightly around thick ruff. Chocolate harks were flattened against delicate cranium in an attempt to keep the snow out of alabaster down and sensitive eardrums while vividly violent orbs flashed against the softly falling sheets of white. Ivory paws and fingers tucked into whatever warmth slender lilac form would allow as dancing gypsy's gait carried her farther along in the flurries of flakes. The collie shea was hopelessly lost, unsure of any landmarks or even the position of the sun in regards to her location, partially blinded by the light reflecting off of the clean sugar topping the earth around her.

Oh, how she wasn't built for the cold, slight snowfall or howling blizzard, thin collie pelt offering little shelter from the biting chill of the breeze stirring up the dance of crystalline beauty into a whirl of flexible forms and gentile adoration of the curves beneath them. "Ahh... next time I decide to go for a walk in the snow, I'm staying by the beach." She grumbled to herself, french accent lilting prettily over each syllable. Clinging still tighter to herself, the yearling beauty gazed at the treeline ahead, chewing on her bottom lip. Perhaps she should turn around... nothing ever looked familiar beneath the soft mantle of quiet snowfall...

Even there, that absolutely massive tree to her left, that wasn't a familiar landmark at all... Sylvie paused and stared at the massive, ancient tree, blinking a few times. Maybe it was familiar after all. She knew not the scents of the packlands nearby, a recently founded group beyond her knowledge at the moment. Had Sylvie known about the pack, she might have attempted to join it long prior to her re-arrival in her family's lives. The Artistic pack would likely have embraced her dance and song with open arms, and perhaps, with their support, she might never have been alone that fateful eve so long ago... Sylvie absently pulled her scarf tighter about soft ruff and continued her trek to the tree.

The four long scars hidden beneath blonde and ivory mane were constant reminders, constant notices of her frailty in the face of danger. She sighed quietly, gazing at the unbroken snow before slim footpaws and slender form, until a whiff of another's wild scent caressed dark chocolate nose. Orchid petal gaze rose quietly to the form settled beneath the massive, snow kissed tree, then flitted from one strange object around him to another. Sure, she recognized what each piece was- but why he had it was unknown to the curious collie woman, and even more so strange. Why - no, what- would he want to craft in the middle of a snow flurry? "Pardon me sir," She said softly, slender cream maw curved into a tiny smile. "Would you mind if I share your spot?" Came her gentle french lilt, hopefully catching his attention. The quickest way to find out what he was up to was the simplest- ask.

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