Arsynia,
Lioness of Prideless
Played by dusk

arsynia tollaire.

The cold Arsynia could have swallowed—her thick wolfish fur often quelled the brunt of wintry gusts—but there was something unsettling about the emptiness, the openness of the tundra. Trees dotted the horizon like little black ants crawling across the snow, twisting in the wind yet not quite breaking. Arsynia could see the pawsteps she left behind, prints left in the snow disappearing as she walked further and further away. There were no sheer cliffsides nor looming forests to protect her from the intensity of the tundra's environment, and Arsynia's fur was ill-suited for such an off-white place, often sending arctic hares skittering before she even realized they were in her path.

She had wandered from her place in the mountains after seeing such a land dusted in white, an aching curiosity plunging her into a place that almost reminded of her birthlands.Almost. The scrublands had not quite the same amount of snow, nor the same amount of perpetual flatness, a ceaselessness that left her bare, exposed, naked. She was certain even those from the forests and sierras that surrounded this place could see her wander aimlessly. The bitter chill that frilled around her paws reminded her of the stories her mother had told her once: bitter cold, never-ending winter, cubs culled at their mother's bellies long before they could ever experience warmth.

Eventually, she came along a line of trees, a lonely island in a sea of ceaseless white. She slipped between the snow-dusted pines, before resting her shoulder against its bitter dark trunks, letting her dry eyes slip close for just a moment. Just a breath.

Art by AleTie