-- Brown paws skimmed over the surface of the fallen pine. No crunch came from beneath the paws, for the she-wolf was not truly.... there. She weaved between the pines, brushing against the bark; though no sap clung to her fur, and no feeling of roughness against her brown fur. She lifted her nose to the air, but of course, she could not smell. Instead she used her eyes to spot the glimpse of white through the trees, as she felt she had... in other times. She glided away from the pines, weaving umong them, in a stalk-like posture, though there was no need, the white she wolf would not be able to smell, nor see, nor hear her. As she finally came into a spot where she could see the white wolf clearly, she let out a soft whine, though the white female made no answer. The brown wolf watched from afar, Marceline.