[imgleft]http://www.matope-swamp.com/images/maxx ... uncert.png [/imgleft]She hated her name. She hated the implication and the dream that had birthed her into the world, sent her sprawling blindly and when she’d opened her mouth to speak it - Closure - the light that had sparked in her father’s eyes. She’d felt the weight of his relief, as if she was some sort of saviour, meant to bring an end to life spent constantly filled with terror.

He’d relied on her after the others had left, following her constantly wherever she went; just a sad pair with terrifying smiles. Trauma was a trembling mess, always anxious, his tail tucked and his ears down.

And she’d never quite understood until her grandfather had come calling for her as well, dark as night, red eyes in the dark, a toothy grin and the stink of blood. Then she knew why Trauma was the way he was. Together they’d run from one side of the swamp to the other to escape him.

And here they were, here she was.

There was no closure she could bring, no resolution. Her birth did not herald the end of her father’s emotional turmoil. 

The doe had pondered all of that many times over, rolled it around her head, metaphorically chewed on it. Today she was especially ponderous because she was alone - a very rare occurrence. She wasn’t sure how Darkling had found them but she had, which didn’t bode well since if Darkling could find them, surely Big Bad could. But at least her father had been distracted enough by his other daughter that Closure could wander away. Maybe her sister had known she needed it. She always had a way of knowing.

And so wander she did, following a small half-frozen stream, her breath steaming in the cold air. She didn’t have a destination. Closure was simply enjoying the solitude, the sounds of the world dampened by the recent heavy snowfall.

Her hoof crunched through the thin ice of the stream and freezing water bubbled up, escaping in small rivulets. Closure had stopped to watch when she heard the soft tread of hooves on snow and her head rose, ears perked and alert, swivelling to locate the source. She watched the other Kiokote make her careful approach.

If they had been any louder, Closure might have turned and fled. She wasn’t afraid. Not in the same way her father quivered at every shadow and faltered at every interaction. She was simply disinclined towards rowdy company.

“I am alright,” she answered, her voice just as soft as the new fallen snow.

She studied the newcomer carefully, her expression troubled and body tensed. She cast her gaze over the doe’s features, the perked ears, the dark and light markings, and scented the air for any familiarity. Her grandfather had gathered quite the pack and you never knew when one of them might show up.

But there was nothing of Big Bad on this doe.

“I don’t mind,” she said.

Her shoulders relaxed, ever so slightly.

“I like the cold. It doesn't bother me.” That was her mother's blood. A winter child.

A curious doe... She looked like she was meant to be in the snow. Winter seemed to rest at her edges, blending her just so. Like camouflage. Though, judging by her fluff she was probably better suited. Reminded her of some of her family's shaggy throats which certainly kept them warmer than her short, coarse fur. All she'd inherited of her grandmother was a dog's loyalty, a great sense of hearing, and a love of sticks.

"I should have realized. You look rather fluffy," she said with a smile. "You probably barely feel the chill." Cough's tail wagged as she held back a little shiver from standing still. The doe was pleasant company after all, if a bit soft-spoken. "I'm Cough it Out."

“Cough It Out,” she repeated the name slowly, her first new acquaintance in a very long time. She wasn’t even sure how to have a casual conversation with someone other than her family but this doe seemed like a good place to start. At the tail wag, her own shorter and bushier tail gave its own hesitant waggle.

“I am,” she paused, holding her name hostage on her tongue, the name that she hated. It had occurred to her in one brilliant one that she didn’t have to be that kin here. After all, she would only know this doe for a brief moment and then they would go their separate ways. It was fine to be someone else.

“My name is Winter.” It was the first thought that occurred to her out in the snow, with the chill in the air and snowflakes floating lazily around.