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Three Nights, by contrast, did not have a territory - her tribe had wandered often between weeklong periods of settlement, and that was largely the pattern that she followed now that she was alone. (She didn't miss her tribe - she had left it by choice, and because she'd heard of a place with far more bountiful prey. She was certain anyway that the tribe would follow, eventually.) She had never been fond of the winter, exactly, but she'd always borne it out, because she'd known that a bright summer would follow. And if she was good at anything, anyway, it was surviving. That had been how she'd earned her name, after all.

There was little prey here but Three Nights could sustain herself well enough on plants, which were...well, they weren't bountiful either, but they were present in large enough quantities. Certainly large enough quantities for Three Nights to survive. She would not complain - there was no one there to complain to. And that would not have been correct: a totoma did not complain. A totoma adapted.

The ground here is warmer than it was in the mountains, Three Nights thought. It was not something she objected to - warmer ground meant a higher chance of survival, if it also meant less familiarity with the local flora and fauna. It also meant less snow - which meant it was far easier to pick out a white totoma buck's silhouette than it would have been otherwise. Perhaps he, too, was a scout of sorts, and would be willing to exchange information, or hunt together and then go on their own ways.

She lengthened her pace - they were headed in the same direction; he from the north and she from the east.

He'd noticed her, she thought. Three Nights was, admittedly, a noticeable totoma. The yellows of her coat had always stood out against the cool grey mountain, but it had never mattered much to her. She was skilled, she thought. Surviving had been how she'd earned her name.

She hadn't given much thought to the sound of her hooves crunching across snow, though, and honestly, she didn't think he'd mind. She was a friendly presence, for the most part - reserved, yes, but most of the totoma she knew were reserved, and this stranger should not mind the same behavior from herself. "Hello," she spoke as she neared. "My name is Three Nights." She would wait, now, for him to offer his own name - it was certainly a buck, she confirmed. A buck who, it seemed, was as white as snow but for some red markings on his coat, and upon his horns.

Handsome, yes (he'd be able to camouflage well on a mountain, clearly), but Three Nights paid no mind to that. It was the strength of the body that mattered, naturally, and anyway - she was not looking for handsome bucks to exchange information with. She'd much rather have one with a bright mind, and if he was a traveler, then he was probably bright-minded. And, anyway, she'd wait before any judgment - she was patient, too, if she was also a survivor.

She didn't really think about the possibility that he'd refuse to exchange information, or that he'd flat out not talk to her. They were both totoma, after all, and it was really to both of their benefit if they each had something to say.

They walked in quite companionable silence, she thought. Until he began to speak.

Nights, too, recognized that there was a smell in the air. But she wasn't quite cognizant of what it was, just yet. She did not spend her time killing wolves, after all, and she seemed not to know that Wolf Skull did. And...whelpling? She was young, but certainly (she thought) not that young. And she'd just told him her name, too. "I don't need...protection, you know," she told him, and strode fiercely after him. She'd assume that was what it was, unless he was summoning his tribe's leader or something. And in that case - well, in that case she'd rather face the leader totoma to totoma.

The wolf looked like it had been a fierce one - not that Three Nights could see it yet. It had found (or perhaps created) for itself a little burrow behind one of the trees, and was hiding silently and watching the totoma as they passed. The shock of blue on its neck made it more than noticeable, though, and its sharp brown gaze did make it seem suspicious, to say the least. Its hind legs were hidden from view, but were they visible Wolf Skull would have noticed an injury. As it was, the wolf looked as though it lay in wait for some sort of prey.

The buck was grumpy, to say the least!

He was not the sort that Three Nights was entirely unaccustomed to, however. Taciturn totoma were common enough, and Nights supposed that she herself was not the most peppy of does. That was what the swamp's kin were for, right? And those silly creatures who'd hailed from the desert...

Oh. Right.

She noticed the wolf a fraction of a second after Wolf Skull did - she had not known what to look for, but that bright blue was unmistakeably...noticeable. Was he going to fight it? What a waste of effort, Nights thought. Wolves were not edible (or, more accurately, wolves were edible but not particularly palatable or desirable as a source of meat or bones or - what would one do with a wolf's hide, anyway?), and hunting for fun was something unthinkable to Three Nights. Energy, in her opinion, should have been expended only in the case that it was necessary, or in the case that it'd be useless later on.

"It seems a waste, don't you think?" she asked, disapproval clear in her voice. "Wolves are competition as hunters, certainly, but I don't doubt that I'm clever enough that my kills will surely outshine a wolf's." It was so small, too.

The wolf took the time that Nights had spent speaking to pull itself out of its hole - it had a clear limp, now, and was clearly going to bolt rather than fight. Wolf Skull was bigger, and it was wise enough to realize that the fight would've been futile with its injury (or perhaps, somehow, wolves communicated, and it already knew that Wolf Skull presented a danger to it. But that was unlikely.).