The Sunspire one fat pigeon

olive came down from the mountain with haste; although her rational mind told her that her scent had probably been carried through the wind her heart wanted to think that she had been sought out.

olive, she called from some distance away, picking up her pace.  there was an urgency that played on the edge of her voice but she tried to remain sensible — she didn't want the woman to be worried for her.  this wasn't like that.

do you have a minute?