Lost Creek Hollow goldeagle

forward dated by about two days, so this thread takes place on the 30th!

She moved inland.

Her path smooth as an arrow’s flight, her steps quick. Huntress’s path was true, her hawk-gold eyes watchful. She skirted the boundaries of claims, weaving her way through the mountains and through to the other side.

Footsore and weary, she slowed her pace after weaving around yet another claim, her nose to the floor beneath her. She was quick to catch that night’s dinner, and she rested in the open, a half sleep that was not restful in the slightest.

Morning found her in a hollow, trees high above her, nose pointed at the sky. Sunlight caught the faint russets in her dark mantle, the cream of her haunches a burnished gold.

Skáld did not often roam from the packlands, but considering how quiet things had been, he found himself becoming a bit more adventurous. He moved with a cautious step, but remained fairly relaxed in nature- today, he sought only to observe the changes that had come with the Spring rains and the heightening heat that meant that Summer was near. 

He snuffled through patches of green plants, searching for any hint of herbal scent that might indicate that a plant could be used for healing. He knew only a few- but he recognized the difference between plants that would be eaten by prey, and plants that might have another use. Some had a certain scent that he knew instinctively to avoid; he wasn't going to risk his own, precarious health to investigate a plant that smelled medicinal, knowing it might be poisonous. 

He wasn't surprised to catch another wolf's scent, though it did surprise him to find that she did not smell of one of the other packs. Finding himself in a decent mood, he began to follow her scent, curious to see who she might be, and what brought her to such a populated area.

It was pretty here, fresh and flush with spring. Keen eyes could pick game trails out of the tangle of bushes and wild grasses, each struggling to outmaneuver the other for a scrap of sunlight. The trees held the same contest at a much slower rate.

Tinúviel marked the game trails on a mental notepad, swinging her head in a slow arc to attempt to choose one out of the din. Pigscent, rabbit droppings, the faintest hint of a fox. Nature thrived around her, and she was its arbiter.

Wolfsmell reached her after a time of standing and soaking in smells, and she twisted her head to find a curious creature, wolven with an odd coat texture. Her head tipped to the side before she could stop it, and she was staring before she knew any better. Weary, watchful, but full of curiosity for how the man across from her even came to be.

After a moment, she tipped her head in acknowledgement.

He regarded her with kind eyes, remaining quite still as she stared at him. Had there been any malice in her eyes he might have withered, but as it was, he could only discern curiosity. She herself was a remarkable creature- with ombré fur, and a pale muzzle that made her eyes stand out. A tip of her head came as a good sign; Skáld'a tail waved, and he drew a bit closer. 

"How doing?" He asked, his voice gentle, featherlight.