Bragi's voice was faint. Muffled by snow, and the den, but Tove heard it either way. Her plush ears perking as she lifted her head curiously. The scent of blood was faint, too, mingled with that of the earth. It brought her to pick her pace up a little bit, debating on whether she should call someone. Mostly, she wanted to see if her sibling was okay.
Approaching the old den, which only really smelled of Bragi now, she eclipsed the entrance and dropped her head down to look inside.
Everything alright?her voice was soft and inviting, hoping for an answer that wouldn't spurn her to seek out an adult, though the iron-rich aroma was stronger now.

she was the sigh of the wind
and the rhythm of the rain
