Misty Mountain is opposite of Rainbow Cliff. Mists hover year-round at this high altitude, mistaken by some to be thin clouds. Thin layers of snow cover the mountain, making some areas slippery and hazardous.

Some think it romantic, a place to bring their mates, while others come to play and romp. However, all must agree that there is some level of mystery and spookiness hovering about with the mists...

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Run, If You Intend To Survive
IP: 123.255.9.30

 photo PixleEclipse_zpsd35a6436.jpg

Aerten couldn't keep it in; a small giggle escaped her lips. It would seem that her little bird had a spark burning inside of her, and it was something that filled the femme with admiration, and desire to know if she could put it out. However, the russet fae wouldn't try anything, at least not yet. Starting a war could potentially sign her own death warrant, and though the thought of death held little fear for her, she wasn't ready to die just yet. Still, her curiosity was growing; what exactly was this little fae playing at?

"Now, now...No need to get worried yet." The older femme fatale murmured softly. Making sure she made quite a show of it, Aerten tucked her paws away. Even if this one did try something, the ess was sure she could handle it.

"You're brave, I'll give you that much..."A small light flickered in her eyes as she added on, "...little bird." Aerten was well aware that the name probably made zero sense to her. Ah well. She was quite enjoying her little game, which, had she though about it, would probably disturb her. Aerten didn't enjoy socialising.

Her mind drifted slightly as she had watched the teen turn her head away. Would it be possible to scrape any information or details from this one? The chances were unlikely; besides the warrior would prefer her rather...nosy tendencies not to be known by many wolves. It'd be unfortunate if in future information gleaning, she'd have to resort to Option Two: Start shredding until she got what she wanted.

The russet warrior glanced over once more at the girl. With their russet pelts they could almost pass as sisters, sitting up here and engaging in trivial bantering. That thought alone unnerved her slightly, and she shifted, uncomfortable for once in her life. But what really caught the femme was the girl's leg. It seemed to have suffered some serious damage at one stage, and as Aerten watched on silently, she observed the female's carefully guarded face. Was she in...pain? Sympathy nearly broke through the stoic façade. Nearly. The femme fatale herself had had her fair share of injuries, the most obvious aftermath a scar running across her muzzle. Aerten shifted once more, slightly forward this time. Maybe the girl could lean on her to take some pressure off her leg...Next thing the assassin knew, little trails of blood were trickling down her own side. Aerten had clawed herself. It was almost like a river of cold water had been dropped on her head, as she sat back in her original position, eyes as cold as ice. How dare she allow such weakness in her own mind. How. Dare. She. Biting down internal rage, she glanced back at the fae, waiting for the inevitable question: What the hell had just happened?!

"I'm Aerten. Do you have a name, or should I just call you 'little bird'?" The sharp words were used as a distraction as the femme turned her body so her scratched side was now out of view. She was shifting a lot since this one came up here, and as anger bubbled up in her throat, she momentarily considered shoving the girl off the cliff. Maybe she wouldn't get caught if she did that...The femme mulled over the idea. Anything to stop the workings of the little bird that had somehow already ruffled the emotionless soldier.

||Aerten|| Abentrot ||Mateless||Pupless||3||PixieEclipse||



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