sore provisions [o]

[cassiopeia ♔]

❧iolanta,
I THINK IT'S TOO LATE TO ADMIT TO YOU THAT I'M HURTING .

It had been a long time since she'd been this far up North. The small, willowy she-cat tended to stay in the same area as long as she could before she began to feel uncomfortable; then, she would depart for a while, if only to take a breather. It was actually a little strange. You would think that the grieving mother-of-two would have felt more at ease staying as far away from her home as frequently as she could, but Iolanta found that she was loathe to let go of it.

She still hoped, sometimes, that they would come back - all of them, or even just one of them, or someone - but she knew the chances of that were slim. It had been two years - two years of waiting, of keeping to herself, and of trying to stay out of sight - since that day, and the chances of anyone of them returning were beginning to dwindle down to almost nothing. Iolanta felt foolish for even thinking that they would come back, but she couldn't help but hope.

At any rate, she'd grown tired and exhausted of staying in that same place for too long, and now she'd taken the restless journey up North to the river. She liked the river; she liked the clean-cut air around the water's edge, and she liked the proficient amount of prey as well. The young she-cat made it to the river early in the morning; the sun hadn't even begun to peek over the distant edge of the mountains, and the air was dark and cool and refreshing. A breeze with a bit of a bite ruffled her long coat, constantly growing longer for the upcoming winter, and she shook her head and sneezed.

Coming up the river's edge, the young leopard lashed her tail and peered out with luminescent eyes into the darkness. Chilly water lapped at her paws and sent her fur on end. It was different, that was for sure; she could see birds fluttering around in the dim light of the morning, or rather, the shadows of birds, and the water was mostly still save for a gentle rustle. This was how she liked it - quiet, lonely, solitary.

SIX YEARS OLD ， AMUR LEOPARD ， NOMADIC

[anemone]

This wasn't something Isis was used to. Getting up so early in the morning when the sun wasn't even out yet. When the light had not yet touched a single plant to signal them to open their petals. No, Isis was used to getting up with others when the sun was out and having things to do. Caribou to catch, pups to watch over. Battles to plan and expectations to hold. No longer did these things apply to her though. Now all this free time had unfolded itself in front of her. It was time for herself.

Early birds chirped breaking the sweet silence of the sunless morning. Isis flicked a black ear absently. The black she wolf was moving solely on instinct. She wasn't going anywhere in particular her long black legs were just moving. As she moved through the brush a white flash ran past her eyes. Isis stopped and stared. Whatever it was it had disappeared as soon as it had appeared. Isis sniffed and caught the dull scent of the local river birds. Was that what had flew past her eyes? Isis shook her head.

Just keep walking.

And that's what the female wolf did, just kept walking. She walked along feeling the ground grow more wet and soft beneath her paws. The river was near. Isis's nose twitched a little as she picked up the smell of water. Now that she thought about it she was partially thirsty or so her mind told her. When Isis reached the river her lithe black form slid out from the shadows and she made her way to the river's edge. Cold water lapped at her paws but it didn't bother her she was used to cold, she was a tundra wolf. Slowly Isis's dipped her head and began to drink.

After a few laps of the cool liquid Isis licked her maw of the droplets of water. That was when she finally took notice of a figure on her side of the river. Isis sniffed, the scent was unfamiliar to her and the lack of light made it hard to make out the details of the creature.

[Fern]

(Probably a bad idea, but whatever!)

Mishka delicately stepped through the light shrubbery scattered around the landscape. She flared her ears, listening for any sounds that would betray the presence of a predator. She paused to lick the morning dew from the sparse grass around her hooves. Her tail twitched nervously. She continued on, glancing around occasionally. The last thing she wanted to do was to walk straight into a hungry predator, they would for sure make a meal of a solitary deer. She carefully bent her head and snatched up a mouthful of grass. While she chewed, she noticed a chill breeze started up, bringing with it the coldness of winter.

She carried on, intent on finding the river. The past few days journey had left her dehydrated and thirsting for water. A prairie dog scampered out of the way of her hoof, and leapt into it's hole. Mishka sighed. She sometimes wished she could be a prairie dog and have a warm den with a family waiting for her to come home. But she dismissed the thought, as she'd probably get stepped on by a deer looking for water.

She could smell the moisture in the air as she got closer to the river, her footsteps quickened as she neared her long sought-after query. She rounded a corner in the pathway and bam. There it was. The river. She carefully looked around before emerging from the shrubbery. The coastline looked clear here, but downhill she could smell what seemed to be a snow leopard and a wolf. She flared her ears and could hear only the trickle of the river. Strange... She thought. If the Snow leopard and the Wolf are downstream, down the hill, they won't even know I'm here. She thought cleverly. She rubbed against the shrubbery to try to mask some of her scent before stepping out to take a drink.