The Sunspire Nothing but everything

The sun had lost its bite as he hours went on, and now as it dipped below the horizon, Treason figured she'd go and make another trip down to the borders for a short patrol.  She'd been nestled up at the foot of a tree, getting to her feet with a yawn, stretching.  She was tired of summer, not that she had it as bad as some -- her pelt was mostly white after all -- but a few cool days would be quite welcome.

She still had a decent descent before hitting the borders for her walk, and there was every chance she might meet someone along the way... For better or worse.  A few of those who'd shown up in the vale had been ones she'd scented making the patrols, but given her experience with past packmates (and some that still were around) she wasn't counting on them being of her ilk.  Treason was still the odd bird here.  Would it ever change?  Probably not unless she did something on her own.  Hm.  That was a thought.  Anyway, borders were just up ahead.  For certain definitions of "just."