Grouse Thicket Dancing on our feet to an introspective beat

Noon left the Hinterlands in high temperatures, the hot summer sun beating down on the lands beneath it. The wraith hoped for rain, for a respite to the unbearable heat, but none was granted. While others might enjoy the hot summer, she much preferred the autumn and spring, the perfect transitions between bitterly cold and steaming heat. She came this place often, it seemed, but today, instead of exploring the thicket further, perhaps in search of a meal, she had sought shade and merely lain beneath a thick oak, reclining comfortably on her haunches, eyes slitted and panting in the slightest.