Sila

i can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart

Things change, this she knows, and so she takes it in stride when the change continues to befall the mountain. Like the snow, she thinks, it cannot be stopped - it simply must be and it is a choice, she thinks just the same, that one must make: enjoy it or resist it. Enjoyment, she knows, is by the far the better option. It is why she accepts it when her brother leaves, destined it seems for the plains in which had taken her once more. He follows their older sibling there and yet, she feels she has gained her older sister nonetheless. An exchange, as all change truly is.

Besides, she is preoccupied elsewhere. Politics are not her main concern now that the snow peppers the mountains and builds up in drifts; she wakes each morning in the warmth of her mother's fur and yet, she is quick to break free of the den and plough through the fields of white. It is her first true winter, or at least, the first one she can truly come to enjoy. The snow on the mountain is purer, denser, so much colder. It is why she keeps a close eye on her mother; even though Sila is young, she is already diligent. She does not rhomp about all day but rather, she plays idly, ever careful that her mother is well cared for despite her insistence that Sila go enjoy herself elsewhere. It is only natural to worry, she knows. Her mother is not old but Sila sees the slowness in her stride when the wind is strong and the air is cold; she sees the way her mother prefers to bask now rather than dig and hunt. It is not a bad thing - she smiles at it, in fact - for it means that her mother is finally able to relax. Instead, Sila does the digging, the hunting, the running.

Today though - or rather, as the sun begins to set - her mother is insistent that she be left to her own devices as she ascends the mountain. It is said with a smile and a nudge as Sila dashes about her, nuzzling into her neck and nibbling at her ears. After all, she knows. Her mother ascends so that she might watch out over the great blue oceans to the east. Litherum. Sila knows and so, she agrees with a nod and a loving lick before she finds her own amusement in the twilight light.

With practiced ease, she moves about the mountain; she sniffs beneath the snow, searching for early bloomers or fungus for their wares. It is only when she sees a patch of tufted, blonde fur that she pauses with a slack jaw. For a moment, she thinks it might be a sibling and yet, the fur is too dark, too russet - but it is somebody. That alone makes her grin to herself, her tail preemptatively waving as she begins towards the stranger on light, dancer-like steps. When she is close though, she arcs about so that she might approach from the side; she yips, quiet and gentle as she pauses to smile over at the stranger. The girl she sees is peaceful it seems, relaxed as she watches the swirls of colours as they paint the sky. Sila is drawn to look up too, following the girl's gaze as her ears prick forward in interest - "It's marvelous, isn't it?" Her words are breathed in awe before she settles her sights back onto her company. "Would you mind some company?" Why not, she figured? She could always find more herbs, more roots, more plants. But company felt few and far between sometimes. Perhaps her mother had known that and sent her away for that very reason. From here, Sila could watch her own ocean in the form of the sky, after all.