Winter on the borderlands between Sylira and Taldera were not nearly so harsh as the winters near Avanthal. At home, the snow was likely hip-deep and crusted with a thick rime of ice. The trees were different, too, tall, spindly things without any greenery - Miharu was used to tall evergreens and pines, everything still thick and insulated against the cold. This far east and south there was no such luck, just cramped bits of winter-dead brush and a wind that cut sharply through even the thickest cloak.
Luckily it was the verge of Spring, winter winds died down and the snow that fell nearly a week before almost completely melted away. They were returning from a trip to Syliras, where they'd sold the sleek white furs of a season's worth of hunting and made twice as much profit as they would have in Avanthal, even considering the travel costs. They were on their way to Novellas now, where they would catch a ship across the ice-laden waters and back home. It was decided that it was smarter to travel over land to Novellas and sail from there instead of sailing to The Spires and riding to Avanthal, mainly because the snows on that trip would add another two weeks to it.
So they were here on the border, and Lliana and the rest of their caravan were safety holed away at one of the traveler's inns along the way. Jakob, though, took this opportunity to show his little girl how best to track things in this type of terrain, the different trees and plants that lived there, whatever skills he could pass on to his daughter in the few short years he had left.
Were anyone to guess, they would probably think Miharu somewhere between 10 and 12 years old, on the cusp of puberty, still small and a little too thin, but there was a maturity in the shockingly gold eyes that belied her appearance of childishness. She was a hunter, born and bred for nothing else, and she had killed more than her share of creatures in her lifetime. Which was, incidentally, not yet a year.When dawn broke, the two of them were already traipsing through the woods. Jakob had gone ahead on four-legs, and Miharu followed behind on two, her cloak wrapped tight around her and her pack slung over her shoulders. This was practice in tracking an animal while in human form, and she wasn't nearly as good at is as she was with fur and claw. But she did it, because she had to learn, and her father wanted it.
But as she followed the scent of leopard through the brush, a fitful shift of wind brought another scent her way - copper and iron, thick blood and cold leather and steel. Human blood, her nose identified immediately, and, too curious by a mile, she turned off the path her father'd left her and stalked as silently as she could to see what was going on.
