The Sunspire one fat pigeon

Olive had been collecting seeds — she had found a squirrel’s stash, bored into the hollows of a tree stump — when she caught a hint of Seabreeze upon the zephyrs that billowed through Sunspire’s valley. It hadn’t been that long since the shewolf’s existential crisis upon the highest peaks of Sunspire, and the sylph worried. More than once, she had considered attempting to find the girl to continue their interactions from the night before, to provide some semblance of guidance — but Olive knew how exhausting suicidal tendencies could be, and deigned to let the girl rest as long as she needed.

Either Seabreeze was very close, or the late winter chill had sharpened her senses, because that girl was pungent. The sylph turned to regard her makeshift seed lab, then back towards whence the wind blew, and back to the trunk once more. She marked this place in her memory, then turn to skitter down the path would surely lead her to the Seabreeze, certainly hoping everything was alright and there was no other sadness that plagued her.