A blanket of white lay over the world. An endless expanse of snow and ice, marred only by the trees and veins of the rivers flowing towards the vague distant hump on the horizon that marked the White City, and the occasional fencing marking the borders of farms. Ealhhere lay on the crest of the hill, under the shade of a maple that really had no right standing as tall and proud as it did. He wasn't supposed to be up here. The Matriarch didn't like it. But it was good viewing here. And the Talons were still a threat. A grave threat. So he kept watch when he could, and when the dog was away in the city doing gods only knew what, he could sit where he liked. A stiff breeze caught his feathers, yanked them the wrong way, and settled on his tongue with a familiar scent. Ruairí. And the ungulates of the area? "What do you want?" he didn't look behind him. No need, Ruairí and the ungulate were the only scents in the territory, and strong as the scent was, he wouldn't need to raise his voice for the leggy, slippery toa to hear him. ——— Ruairí padded closer to the lump of ketucari at the top of the hill. So far, the wind was blowing his way... The wind turned, betraying him, and he sighed as he got a grumpy bite. Instead of responding, he padded a bit closer, and then ducked his head to drop the carcass of a young quarilope that had been hanging from his jaws next to the angry cat. "You spotted me." his mouth now free, mock disappointment-- a playful curl. "I was hoping to surprise you. I really *should* be bringing this back to our prey stores, but..." his tail waved in the air like a banner as he circled around in front of Ealhhere. "How long have you been sitting up here?" he purred, teasing. "And would you bite me if I gave you a little company?" ——— A sigh, the faintest crunch of snow under paws--it was thin and crisp here, mostly blown off by the wind--and there was a solid weight flopped in his space. The dark fur and small horns of a female qarilope sprawled lifeless beside him, and had probably a yearling. He sniffed at the offering and flattened his ears at the *other* source of black fur that had joined him. "Since your mate and Zahrah were past the horizon." he answered, twitching his tail across the snow. With a grunt of effort, he pushed himself to is haunches and pulled the doe in front of him, sniffing along its side--it was a clean kill, a good weight for the season... Pregnant? Sniffing... no, just fat. Probably getting handouts from the local humanoids. "...if you grab my tanning and smoking racks you can join me." He said finally, straightening. "Your mate will be even more furious if my scent is in your den when she gets back." ——— Well, that was an improvement. He wasn't immediately getting snapped at. "Her issues with you are her problem. She can be mad at me all she likes." He shrugged, flicking his tail as he went for where he Knew his cat kept his racks. "Maybe if she smells you on me it'll start to convince her you're not just a bundle of claws?" a tease over his shoulder. ——— Ealhhere watched Ruairí head back down the hill, into the mouth of the wide cave Calyx had claimed as her den. His old friend... emotion crawled under Ealhhere's pelt and he glared back over the horizon, flicking his tail across the snow. *Maybe if she smells you on me...* Maybe. He had doubts given that his scent on Zahrah just tended to set the dog off. And even without those doubts... this could only be temporary, couldn't it? Ruairí had already left him behind once. Throat tight with emotion, he stared at Ruairí's gift. It should go to Calyx's pack. A pack he wasn't welcome in, despite his partner. ...s. The clatter of wood below told him Ruairí had found the racks. Why was Ruairí putting so much effort, now, into going against his mate? *it'll start to convince her you're not just a bundle of claws?* *Wasn't* that all he was, though? The tight feeling clawed down his chest to settle in his belly, and he reached for the qarilope. He... He had a gift to process. Ruairí brought him food and that... regardless of their past, that was something he could understand, even if nothing else made sense. He'd deal with the confusion and doubts later. Alone. For now, he thanked the spirits and gods for Ruairí's clean hunt, and got to work on tying the hind and forelegs and getting the corpse hanging over the maple's sturdy branches so that he could drain it properly.