[SOLO] Finding Meaning in the Snow Covered Hills (Ira/Bren)

[DaemonGabrielle]

In the Aura Nin Mountains, somewhere far above Montagne, there was a snow covered hollow. A small stream, just barely large enough to sport salmon and some muck covered flat rocks, sat the side of the hollow. Large coniferous trees surrounded the banks on either sode, lending their shade to the frozen ground below them. On the other side of the beautifully shaded, ice and snow covered ground, was a small, hand built shack.

Pine trees slats had been shaved and wittled to nestle together. Bark and other materials covered the roof. Tar covered the slatted lines, to provide insulation against the cold wind that flung across the valley every so often. From the top of the snow covered roof, a small chimney could be seen, billowing a heavy plume of smoke along the skyline.

If one crept closer to the log cabin, they would find hoof shaped prints in the snow. As well as a neatly built pile of cut logs. A small path to the river had been carved out of the snow in a wonding trail.

If one got EVEN closer, they could peek into the windows and see a sparsely decorated, minimalistic inside. A small pile of furs were in the west corner. An even smaller table was set up along the wall. The fireplace was a small, iron furnace/box of sorts with a pipe leading to the ceiling. An array of knives lined the wall as well, along with one lonely, solitary pan. It would seem well used if one took the time to inspect it.

It was a nice little cabin, set in a picturesque hollow, and could be the cover on any number of publications that run through the city. There was just one problem. The occupant was the opposite of everything described above.  

[DaemonGabrielle]

Ira wouldn't consider herself cold. Nor would she consider herself a rude amd snarly woman. She was, however, all of these things plus more. Ira felt little point in the politics of words. And she never spared any if she could avoid it. Most pae didn't even know Ira could talk. She had been going to the same towns for supplies so long, they usually had it ready or knew her by name well enough that she cpuld get away with a grunt here or there.

Which suited her just fine.

It wasn't that she disliked people. No. No. She hated people. The lies and deciet. The betrayal. The smiles and false hopes that were planted in so many. No No. NO. Ira considered herself much better alone than to have endure all these things. Perhaps there was a lover in her past that had caused her jaded views. Or maybe she was a sociopath. No one really knew.

But today, Ira's entire world would change. Wether she wanted it to or not.  

[DaemonGabrielle]

She'd been out chopping wood as usual. The thunks of the axe had been in time with the grunts of her concentration. Each tree that was felled, was was then dragged over to her sled, and settled down upon it with a solid thunk. Then back she would go to another tree. She always made sure to limit her trees in any particular area to help the ecosystem not be driven down by her need for warmth.

She wore no clothes, despite the freezing temps, and oddly enough, just in her particular area, snowflakes seemed to fall. But all of this was just nor.al to Ira.

What wasn't normal, was when the thunk of her axe cause this particular tree to sing. Now sing in any traditional sense, but to almost vibrate her axe in her hand. Which needless to say, was enpugh to make the poor crochetedy fauness to pause and glare at her tool as though it had cause this.

Leaving the now vibrating axe in the tree, she quickly examined the tree bark of this unhappy trew. Having never in her life seen a tree sing. And she'd been at this for a while.

Crouching, she ran her hands along the bark. The scrape against her palm seemed to aggitate the wood, and by association, the axe even more.

So much so that the axe fell out of the tree and dropped to the ground with a shallow thud. Alarmed, she slowly crept to the side where the axe had been, and one hand to her knife's hilt, she peered into the crease of exposed wood where it had been.

And saw metal. Head cocking, she reach out and touched the metal only for the heat coming from the coin to burn her fingers.

With a yelp, she threw herself back and landed on her bottom. But her left hand had hit the axe the wrong way and sliced a divet into the thick and calloused meat. Cause Ira to hiss and bring her hand to her chest.  

[DaemonGabrielle]

Now unbeknownst to Ira, was that this magic coin, whoch had been seeded into the tree many moons ago by unknown pae, was more than a simple bit of metal. And that when she flung her hand to her chest, she had sprayed the tree, and therefore the coin with smallest amount of her blood.

This in turn caused the coin to begin vibrating in earnest. The marks around the coin lit up, and tjay hum lead to something even more gruesome.

A nasty, black and avrod smoke billowed out of the coin. Amd had Ira not just seen the tree vibrate, she would have been scared. Had she not fallen and cut her hand open, she would have been terrified. But Ira, like the coin, was not ordinary, and these actions only succeeded in pissing Ira off. To the point, where blood or not, she grabbed her knife from it's holster on her hip, amd dug thos smoking coin out.

For Ira thpught this was a clever trap for some poor sap who had no clue how to hunt and was determined to destroy it.

What she didnt know, was that thru hunter was suddenly inside the smoke, staring at her with bloodred eyes that blinked slowly at this injured faun as tho she was the smoke's next meal.

If Ira had been payi ng attention instead of digging away at the tree attempti ng to free this nuisance from it's wooden cage, she would have noticed the ghostly paw that snuck out of the smoke freely billowing behind her, and slowly solidifying until a white paw with sharp black claws came into focus.

In a blink of motion, the clawed hand struck out, slicing Ira along her spine with no remorse.

The one time Ira allowed herself to scream was this day. The pain behind the scrat h was everything one would think it shpuld be. The feeling of the claws tearing into her skin cause her to throw herself back and away from the tree. Her eyes watered from the pain. But the smoke had returned to being just smoke at this point, so Ira had no clue what had happened other than the searing pain along the flesh of her back.

She reached a hand behind her shoulder to check for blood at the same time the coin sitiation took a turn for the worst. Right as she reached the wound, (for which she was puzzled because there was no wound), the coin's vibrations kicked up a notch and the whole damn tree suddenly exploded in a shower of branch bits amd wood shards.

Now, if Ira had the power of slow motion, she would have seen the portal appear for a fraction of a.second before a ghostly white fogure of what looked like a giant house cat appeared in its place. Dark black hair, a stubby tail, and curiously round ears marked this cat as a not!cat. Big red eyes, including a third, blinked once. All in the 3.5 seconds it took for this explosion to occur.

But Ira, our poor wounded, and bewildered faun of ice and snow, didnt have the power to slow time. So instead, she did her best to duck amd cover as the tree before her decided to commit suicide in the most explosiony way possible.  

[DaemonGabrielle]

Now. Whether or not they got along, or even tolerated each other is a very different story. This is just the story of how the queen of ice and cold met the warm and brave Brennevin.