And Miles to Go Before I Sleep (feel free to jump in)

He paused as the wind died, and with it the driving snow. The snow kept falling as thick as ever, but softer, and now his scent wouldn't be wafting over the hills to the wolves. One hand resting on the grip of his long-knife, the other on the strap of his mailbag, he squinted through the white in all directions. North across the frozen river should be Lantern Waste, south the hills, farther south the nearest passes to Archenland and Telmar. Telmar would be pretty much due west over the mountains, if he hadn't lost his bearings completely, but though he hoped to find shelter in the foothills, crossing the mountains would be impossible without, among other things, a much better coat.

Not that Telmar offered any true shelter either. Warmer it might be, free of the Witch's curse, but the Telmarines had no love or patience for Old Narnians. Only slavery and death could come of trying to cross.

But these foothills ahead to the west, where the White Hills met the mountains -- this was among the most remote corners of the Witch's domain. Here at the fringes, life had found a way, though he had every chance of cantering into a trap or a burned-out wreck.

Another howl caught his ear, to the south again. Pressing on, he steeled himself against the snowdrifts, and plowed through leg by leg, the mailbag jostling on his back.

Stormwall's hooves ground into the frozen earth; snow fountained up against his chest as he stopped. Maybe the rabbit had been sentient, maybe not; this close to the Telmarine border, not all animals had the spark. Truth be told, he hadn't seen it until a blink before the hawk bore it down into bloody snow. The hawk, though, was big enough to be a Talking Animal.

The sentient had eaten the sentient before. A few centuries of winter would do that.

"What have you seen?" His voice was hoarse, thick; he hadn't spoken in a hundred miles. The question served as a test of allegiance, at least as reliably as anything could.

Mina

Hawks didn't much care; he knew that for exigency, not just facade. His eyes narrowed in evaluation. In these times, with these values, wholehearted trust was anathema, but the warning rang true, and six fit what he'd heard.

He looked away to the southwest. If the wolves -- silent now -- were flanking him, they would come from that direction, down off the hill, unwilling to take the risk of trying to catch up from behind in the deep snow. If they knew their business, anyways, and wolves of the secret police had experience to spare.

"I'm carrying letters and parcels for a cavetown in the foothills, just across where the river bends south." Nothing wrong with delivering the mail -- on a good day. On a bad day, a wolf might write him up or bring him in if any of the letters held anything untoward. Accessory to rebellion and high treason -- the mailman's charge.

"How long do I have?"

The bit of rabbit tumbled down to the snowy base of the tree and plopped there, embedding itself in the downy white that lay there. It sat there, steaming oh so gently in the snow, for a few moments in silence. Soon enough, though, tiny drifts of snow tumbled and slid away and the surface there began to crack. Chunks of snow fell away from the thing that pushed itself from the cold embrace and tufts of brown fur, followed by a distinctly large and fuzzy creature, were seen.

The huge bear carefully shook the snow from his fur in a flurry of movement, flinging dusty snow and icy bits a fair distance out and up. Once done, he scratched at the top of his head and found the rabbit's remains there, and brushed it off into the snow once more.

He stretched for a few moments, making sure limbs and body were loosened from a quiet nap before beginning to root around in the space below where he'd lain. After a few moments of rummaging, he stopped, finally realizing that there were others there around him. With a slow look up at both the centaur and hawk before him, he slowly spoke.

"... Um... Hi," Popo said, his voice deep and rough.

Stormwall Mina

"Hawk!?" Mina said sharply "Who are you calling a hawk?!" she paced the branch a bit feathers ruffled. "I'm a Falcon. And my name is Mina." She huffed stretching her wings and taking off leaving the two of them at the forest floor. "Hawk indeed. I could out fly any of those lazy vultures any day." Pushing up through the canopy she called down to the pair.

"I don't like how they taste, but I certainly enjoy the yelping noise they make!"

Mina Popo

The falcon and the bear got a slow blink, then another. Stormwall felt he could spare a moment for that blink; it really summed up his feelings on the subject.

On the plus side, sunset was here, and the wolves would arrive soon. Which meant he didn't have to poke the bear into tactical relocation.

"Alright, then," he said after a moment. "My apologies, friend," he added, calling up through the snow-clad conifers where the falcon had just wormed her way through to the open sky.

He'd called a little too loudly.

Here came the wolves.

Akirama's massive form hung high in the skies above. His eyes darted to and fro along the landscape far below as long, slow beats of his impressive wings held the eagle aloft. The winds had died down, but snowfall was nearly constant in these parts. The slowing wind had allowed him to regain altitude and speed as he soared over Narnian lands. Here and there he spotted native life. Songbirds, those that spoke and those that did not, scattered themselves across the frigid wood below. Here and there, the wandering rabbit or badger made themselves visible as they forged through snow for what little vegetation remained edible in the cursed lands of Narnia. Satyr, Faun, and Dwarf were spotted here and there, moving from cabin to cabin and burrow to burrow along what looked like pre-made paths.

It was a shame that Dwarven footprints in the snow looked so similar to those of humans, lest his job be made easier. He had been soaring over Narnian lands for three days now, with not a track or trace of his charge to be found. As his eagle eyes searched the snow for tracks of a more sinister nature, his mind wondered to alternative possibilities. Though the Witch's Narnians were the best of their neighbors at navigating the harsh environment of the Archenland mountains, they were hardly the only ones capable of infiltrating the lands of his people. They were simply the most likely.

With three days of searching turning not a single clue as to the fate of his charge, Akirama wondered if it were not possible that the child had been taken by a Telmarine or Calorman. Yes, Calormen did a great amount of trade with the Archenlanders and claimed great wisdom and nobility, but were they truly free of wickedness? The Telmarines... Wicked, hateful lot. They would have been prime suspects to the crime had it not been for the great distance and difficult terrain that stood between their lands and the Archenlands. Still... the possibility did exist that such a people would infiltrate Archenland and rob them of a precious treasure. Though the question would then be why... And the Islanders... Even to Akirama, it was not unknown that the Islanders practiced a liberal slave trade. When it comes to motives, the islanders should always be at the forefront of investigations for missing persons... Though... It would have been quite a feat for an Islander to make it so far into the rough, snowy mountains of Archenland undetected.

Akirama's internal debate as to how long he should continue his search before shifting his attention to neighboring lands was interrupted by his attention being drawn to the sights below him. Wolves. Wolves most obviously on the hunt. His eyes counted six of the horrid beasts racing towards a target. Likewise, his eyes counted the number of their target. A Centaur and a Bear. Correction, a Centaur, a Bear, and a Hawk- no... Falcon. Akirama adjusted his heading slightly, aiming himself downwind of the pack of wolves as he observed the situation. He doubted they would be able to detect him as he was. He likewise doubted their ability to deal with an airborne target at the moment, since they lacked any Dwarf, Werewolf, or Minotaur allies wielding bow or crossbow at the moment... But still... Best to be cautious when dealing with Narnians.

Most people, human or not, found themselves with fear and loathing of wolves in their heart. Nowhere in all the world was this more appropriate than in Narnia. Here, the wolves were bigger, faster, and far more cunning. More importantly, Narnian Wolves spoke with a mind all their own. Their minds were brighter, their tactics more clever, and their hearts colder. In other lands, such as Telmar to the west, Wolves were predators of utmost skill and danger. Here... They were cruel things that willingly chose a life of torturing and tormenting others. It was for this reason above all others that Akirama lost no sleep over the killing of a Narnian Wolf.

For now though, he watched the event with passing interest. From his vantage point, it would be impossible to tell the allegiances of the trio until they interacted with the wolves. Were they opposed to the Witch and her Wolves, perhaps... perhaps they could be... persuaded to answer a few questions.

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TL;DR- Akirama watches the wolves approach from high enough altitude to likely not even be noticed. If noticed, Akirama will likely be mistaken for a much smaller bird at a much lower altitude. A- uncommon size in these parts. B- Snow obstructing clear view of Akirama.