Fox's Glade ageless as the sun

@Siarut !

The glade had held her attention for some time; hours were spent tracing the stream, hopping boulders and trying to find ways up the trees, and hunting. She found herself with no particular purpose today, allowing each almost-kill to slip from her grasp with a lazy smile and giving herself to each tumble from a tree's limb. The wild-furred yearling was tired, battered, but thoroughly pleased when she finally decided she'd had enough.

Shaking leaves and bits of foliage from thick midnight fur, she found herself drifting idly towards the meadow she'd seen hours earlier. The wind was in her favor, it seemed; the scent of others came to her with the breeze, freezing her in her tracks. She could not tell how far off they were, or how many exactly, but the knowledge was enough. These lands were not claimed, she knew, and traveling groups had always spelled trouble for the inkstain. She bristled ever-so-slightly, an automatic fear response to her last memory of encountering a traveling band of wolves; no, she would not repeat that experience. Not today, nor any day to come.