Wapun Meadow the start of something new

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yes, she says quietly, moving forward and scenting.  spring had brought forth a variety of fauna, and it was not long before she was on the trail of a turkey.

but it wasn't the scent that gave it away, it was its incessant bawking.  it was making this garbled noise with its throat, strutting along in the grass.

what the fuck.  she looked at onyx almost expectantly, her brow knitted.

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