Yuki kept her paw steps slow and quiet as she meandered about the fog covered cliffs, her demeanor unusually calm. The cold autumn breeze was frigid and laden with mist as it ruffled gently through her course fur, and she inhaled a long, deep breath of the cool, light air, a strange sense of complacency rolling over her with the wind. It was peaceful up here, she guessed, if she was really capable of referring to anything like that anymore. She could hear the muffled torrent of waves hitting the cliff face far below her, but aside from that it almost seemed as though the world had collapsed into insurmountable silence. There wasn't much to listen to, and with the fog there wasn't really much to see either. A heavy blanket of rolling white clouds had enveloped the sun and the cyan blue black drop behind it, affording the milieu an almost dreary undertone. Everything was heavy and cold and forlorn and quiet up here, and perhaps that was why she found it so invariably placid.

In the lambent brightness of sunlight and glimmering green blades of grass and shining water, she never failed to recall how Usagi would have loved it all, how happy the new beginnings of life and sound and color had made her in spite of the droll adversity they were always met with. She could never glimpse such places again without that familiar, aching pang of guilt slicing through her chest like malevolent claws, without recalling the fact that her sister was gone, forever, and it was her fault. She could not enjoy such places, but here, in the emptiness of silence and vision, there was peace. This was all she deserved to see in the world anymore.

In the dim fogginess of the cliffs, her mind was abundantly clear, free of distraction from uselessly wistful memories and onerous shame. Here there was focus, logic, and she knew she could take stock of her recent actions and what she needed to do in order to attain her goal. Her new standing as Erenyx's scout afforded her considerable leeway in regards to her intentions. She now had the territory of three different packs to search through, and the sneaking about, tracking, and occasional skirmishes her occupation entailed alotted her the practice she so desperately needed. Caste systems are stupid, but this endeavor hasn't been useless, I'll give it that.

Still, there were wolves here who far outmatched her in combat, and the disparity between her skill and their's was too large for comfort. How could she hope to face her brother and win, if she couldn't attain victory over her pack mates and rivals? She needed much more time to hone her abilities... And yet.... Much of that meant cooperation and collaboration, social interaction in an ultimate sense.

She scoffed resentfully at the notion, embittered by the truth behind it. She was no social butterfly, and she wasn't that friendly or bubbly or demure either. That had been her sister's expertise; she, by severe contrast, seemed to have a bad habit of pissing everybody off. There had been reason for it as a pup; she could list off about fifty different instances when her shrewd behavior and sharp tongue had gotten them out of a bind. When the other pups got it through their thick, hollow skulls that she didn't take any shit and their insults could do nothing against the impenetrable wall she had built around herself, they always ultimately skipped off, no matter how stubborn the assailant was. That wall of cruel mockery and sarcasm was perfect for protecting herself and her sister, but it was difficult to leave amiable first impressions because of it. What do I care, anyways? She growled inwardly before haphazardly kicking a stray pebble off towards the edge of the cliff, her expression austere and her steel grey glare harshly determined. I can do this on my own. I should be strong enough to depend on myself and myself alone. It's my burden.

The russet furred she-wolf took a deep breath of the cool, heavy air before slowly blinking a few times, an inexplicable exhaustion settling over her. She assumed it had something to do with the muddled sort of emptiness of the cliff, the lack of substance. The fog almost seemed tangible enough to tug down on her coarse fur, to drag her weary bones deep beneath the moist autumn soil into quiet purgatory. I have no reason to feel this tired. She scoffed silently to herself, her tone scathing as she initiated yet another one of her self directed scoldings. What have I even done today besides wander around like a lost pup? Stay focused. Otherwise-

She started at the abrupt sound of a foreign voice, a voice other than her own stern monologue, and she swiftly got to her paws before whipping around, her expression guarded. She appeared to be facing one of her pack mates, a male of notable stature with an outward appearance not unlike that of the guardian she had met- Tundra, she believed her name was. The only major difference was the dark, evening blue of his irises. She was somewhat irritated with herself that she had not detected him sooner, though she supposed with the extensive amount of moisture in the thin air it would have been fairly difficult even for a tracker of notable skill.

A slight sneer of amusement tugged at her maw at his inquiry, an instinctively sarcastic snicker trickling from her jaws. "Oh no, not at all. I'm just some flea bitten rogue who decided to meander directly into the heart of pack territory." She snorted in lax mockery, an innate harshness underlying her jocular tone and her claws digging hard into the soft soil beneath her. The jibe was immediate for her, spoken without a second thought, though she gradually began to begrudgingly regret it a few moments after it had slipped out. He was a pack mate, and he hadn't been hostile by any means. She did the same thing when she encountered Lark and Tundra; she lashed out at them unprovoked. She couldn't help but wonder what her sister would have said, had she witnessed her recent behavior.

She took another deep breath before huffing out a curt exhale, her venomously sarcastic tone replaced with a quasi concealed apology. "That was... a joke. Sorry." She muttered gruffly as she forced her defensive disposition to relax, her austere gray gaze drifting off towards the barren cliff face. "I'm Yuki, the scout. And who are you, might I ask? What's drawn you to the cliff on such a gloriously beautiful day?" Her voice had calmed into an almost lackadaisical nonchalance, any former enmity completely dissipated in spite of the irony of her words. This was about as friendly as she got with strangers, and though she was a bit too stubborn to admit it to herself, she was, on some hidden level of her mind, hoping that her abrupt imprudence could be forgiven.