Dragoncrest Cliffs without the bad, the good disappears

@Melchior or anyone. Helping out with a merc thread! Set after her (presumed) acceptance.

First order of business after she woke from restful slumber was mapping out the patrol paths, and rendevouz sites of the territory. Breakfast was included somewhere in that list but, as she thrust her forelegs out and splayed her toes in a back-popping stretch, she decided to cross that bridge when she reached it. Tirgatao lashed her tongue across her jowls to clean the crusted drool before setting out from the damp, warm hollow she'd borrowed for her temporary den. 

Her strides devoured the furlongs, and mirrored the tracks that foretold of other diligent members of the Dragedakru who often passed this way. A part of her hoped she might encounter another so they might impart their knowledge of recent happenings to her. It wasn't in her nature to ask too many questions, and so hadn't pressured Eske further during their discussion. She passed like a mist beneath the snowy boughs of the great redwoods, ears cupped, and eyes fixated on the features of the coastal woodland.