Winter had come again, and with it came the snow. She wasn't any more fond of it the second time around, but at least this time she was well versed enough in the land and its features to avoid the worst of it. Her innate bravado had led to more than a few faceplants last year and she had no desire to repeat the experience. In fact, if it weren't for her new position as General and Iscariot's legs, she would have probably tried to overwinter in the Ridge.

She missed her tropical home. The land here was monochrome and barren, even at the best of times. Here, only the wind kept a girl company in the high mountains, and while the wind was a formidable foe that swept the moisture from her eyes and dried the breath in her throat, it did nothing to drown out the uncertain swirl of her thoughts.

Damp with exertion, and almost to the point of sweating, Róisín slowed her pace and picked a path down the mountain. She hated cutting her exercise short, but she had made the mistake of sweating in mid-winter before and knew it would only leave her feeling miserable in the end. Steam curled like smoke from her thickly furred coat and plumed in small clouds from her nostrils as she picked a path down the mountain.

She wasn't sure where Iscariot had gotten off to, nor the other new arrivals that had trickled into the Peak, but she figured it was well past time that she make herself available for conversation. There wasn't much else to do other than guard the Commons, and she'd needed a break from the barren and empty landscape today. There was only so much snowmelt a girl could watch alone before she started to go mad. By the time that she made it to the low ground, where the remaining grass lay under a crusted layer of snow, her body had mostly cooled. With a final look around for any obvious figures, Róisín set to grazing quietly by herself, punching through the snowy surface with perfunctory scrapes.