Beneath a tri-toned canvas, snow is so thick and frozen that even the heat of the dame lying sprawled out attractively upon its surface cannot fully diminish it. Heated by exercise, her temperature is higher than normal, but even so the frozen layers beneath her resist. It is no longer biting her skin, instead cooling her pleasantly from their activities, and the huffing cub at her side seemed to feel the same. His warmth seeps into her spine comfortingly, familiarly, but a shudder rippled across the long arches of her body when the wind blows against her skin. It reminds her of the actual temperature surrounding them, and her slight discomfort stirs her companion. Hauling himself to still too-large paws, he clambered gracelessly onto her side, short black nails pricking into her side. Automatically cringing and laughing at the small stabs, she disrupted the precious cargo balancing upon the tiny crest of her belly. With a soft noise of surprise Ao went tumbling forward, sliding and curling until, quite like a ball, he flopped upon his spine and lay sprawled out for the second time that day upon the perfect background to camouflage him.

Her renewed laughter at his antics was broken off into a soft sound of surprise as the fireflies the pair had followed danced above her. With childlike awe she stared up at the tiny glowing creatures, topaz reflecting in the mulberry of her irises, shining in the doe-like features of her eyes. Why shouldn't she gaze upon it with such an unguarded expression? There was nobody she was aware of awake at this hour of night, and nobody within sight. Who was there to see her, to judge and mock her for her weakness? Apparently she was wrong to let her guard down, for Aodaun's fuzzed head shifted and his body rolled, nudging at their bond insistently to alert his princes that they were not as alone as they had thought. Snow shuffles not far from where they lay, muffled falls of hooves that crunch the thin layer of ice that forms uncomfortably atop the pearled mounds.

The princely child is already upon his feet, and his princess rolls quickly upon her belly, endless legs curled close like a foal cloaked in hay by its mothers side. There is nothing to truly fear in the borders of her home, and so her bonded does not send her the visage of the one who approaches. Nevertheless she is upon her hooves as fast as her lanky limbs allow her, startled from her private sanctuary by the sudden appearance of...who? Dark harks flicker to attention like perfect soldiers, frame giving a small shiver, kept hidden to the best of her abilities until her gaze alighted upon the one who approached. Dark and light meld in the bodice of the lass who ventures closer in the silver lantern glow of the moon overhead, a figure Lakota knows almost intimately. Her startled, wide-eyed features soften into curiosity and confusion. From the dame's lips her name falls, a greeting hidden within its soft lyric. "Ktulu," she greeted warmly in return, though no smile played upon her lips, for she still held an owlish look of confusion, caught unaware.

Stepping high over the snow, her shins aching from pushing through the ice layer on top, Lakota moved to meet Ktulu in the middle. Pausing only when the question directed to her met her audits, a flash of pain over her features that smoothed over into peace once more, the same peace she'd felt when she'd calmed from her nightmare. Pausing to rest comfortably in front of her, though her heart felt as if it were trying to run itself through a wire fence in its desire to...to do what? She still couldn't figure out where the needle in the compass of her heart was pointing, and even if she could there was no way she'd be able to discern what it told her to do. "I'm well, Chieftess. I was awoken by a bad memory that seeped into my dreams, and decided to enjoy the night while I could." The normal play of her lyrics, calling her by her title, was slightly weak. But a smile ghosted over her lips, pleasing and kind of shy. "And you, Ktulu? What draws you out at this hour? Are you alright?" Concern laced her tone, crown tilting slightly and brows drawing slightly, advancing a few steps.

There is a line you cannot cross, Lakota.