I wake,

@Robespierre
I love the name and your character, LOL, couldn't help but tag
located near the edge of the tundra that leads to the mountain strip!

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Uriel could not help but trace back her steps just a bit, to the Tundra lands. She knew though where the Lord and his lady wandered, a claimed forest that the golden woman would not touch near. Yet, she didn't get the chance to see more that beyond of the east, as the group who were sentenced out of the lands, were in a haste to find a beloved land to claim. They had chosen such a base, finding a love toward the area and a reluctance to go elsehwere..

In her heart for the time being she was still a wanderer. Yet it was pleasant to know there was always a place to go back to when the time. A curious day where she felt the grace of the wind come forth and sentence her to the north itself. She crossed some of the lands and noted gingerly the various mountains that seemed to clung to this side.. A curiosity, if any packs claim their peaks — and she did venture forth. To try and climb to their slopes was not just a day adventure, but a few at minimal.

At the time being, Uriel was but wandering through the tundrian plains.

the staff team luvs u

Another pelt of color, though this woman, at least, was not so garish against the ice. A brilliant gold instead greeted him, reminiscent of some parts of a morning sky. Many dawns he'd spent upon the ice, the sun blinding as it bounced away from all that white. She brought that great sight to Robespierre's mind's eye and he was entranced as he drew near, muzzle dipping and a low rumble escaping him in greeting.

"Mon cherie," he called out, warmth in his gaze but no matching smile (he was seldom with a smile, the dour fellow). Her own eyes were striking, too; if her fur was the sun, those twin orbs brought moonlight. She was ethereal, much finer than even some of the more exquisite specimens from the far north.

His freres would be instantly captivated, should they see her. He fought back wry chuckles, thinking of how they'd each react.

Then he cocked his head. "Do you call this place home, mademoiselle?" he asked. For she was seasoned, sure, but no older than himself, and he dare not offend her vanity should she understand la langue des meres. And if she was uncoupled...
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The hint of french hung into the air, a language she knew well of it's origins and yet the knowledge of it's speech remained a blissful unaware. Knowing many that would be and yet always lacked the guidance to learn their tongues. She had a desire to know more, but not many would offer such teachings to a stranger — a rude question that remained at the edge of her tongue, as she turned to smile at this white wolf of the north. Blending into the surroundings, a true northern at it's maker.

She shook her head, "I live near the plains beyond, but had been in the north quite some time before." She was familiar with it's grounds, a general assessment to those around.. Though it was still fresh enough where she lacked the location of certain packs, as the few remained unknown expect one that hung in the mountains.

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"And you're back," he remarked, one corner of his mouth quirking. It wasn't so cold as it was to be, yet - the winter solstice still loomed, and the nights were getting longer. But their breaths still showed, the ground beneath their paws well frozen. "How do you like it, here, compared to the plains?"

He had never been so far south as to see a great expanse of green. The tundra never was so; even at its warmest, it was cloaked in patchwork auburns and russets and browns. A rolling verdant expanse was but a fairy tale to Robespierre.

He suddenly longed to see it.

Perhaps she would take him there - and he would gladly follow, for a moment's adventure.
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To his own expression she gave a mild chuckle with a nod, "A wandering mind and soul, I enjoy mapping the areas." A curious heart, she travelled to where she has not seen and back forth. The land was covered in unclaimed territories, and wolves she would meet one day, and may never again. It brought an interest to these connections, to wandering souls she knew not off and would learn. It brought a mystery if someone like this man, if this would be their first and last, or but an endless string of conintual connections.

All but poetic thoughts, but she enjoyed these encounters. They brought a spark, to a somewhat dull life. She held the home, had a few friends — and now settling to that and so, exploring what can be around the destined place. 

"Both are vast and wide.." she commented, a gaze looking behind her before onto his own once more, "I enjoy both, though I do prefer having the cover of a forest for protection." Golden as she was, sometimes stuck out like a sore thumb against the snow — but otherwise blended into the more summer terrains. It was a hit or miss many times, and she sometimes wished her own coat would completely change to the season. She wondered if he had it worse, for beyond the tundrian land, a white pelt was a gasping opposite of the evergreens.

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