Greatwater Lake i haven't had a shower in the last nine days

having so recently hunted for scents of her kind, it was with some surprise and a great rapidity that the discovery of the stranger brought zharille to focus.

she had been scraping her mark in to the soil and was previously intent with the instinct to comb her shoulders with nearby trees, so they would hold her scent more strongly; but this ceased as the foreign scent came to her.

it was not the scent of dust and desert, not that she should have hoped for such. it was clean, almost bright in a way that reminded her of winter; and there was a green scent mixed in, like grass, but sour like hay.

without pause she moved in to the wind and tracked the scent, which did not take much time once zharille set her mind to it. the stranger she spotted was a pale female; with her hackles prickling, zharille stood her ground with her posture demanding obeisance, while her face was a scowl of warning.