Shadewood locked up, naked with socks

thaaaaank youuuu

The creek had been her guide as she trekked through the wood. The shadow seemed to take comfort in the babbling of passing water. Every so often, she would move herself toward it and dip her paws in the most shallow portion of it. With a watchful eye, Ginsberg lowered her mouth toward the liquid and lapped up as much as she could stomach. When she could feel it slosh around inside of her, she pulled herself out of the creek and continued along her path. The shade that was cast overhead was comfortable enough that she seemed to linger for a little too long in the territory. It didn't take long before the scent of another caught her attention. In a few strides, she locked her eyes on the shape of a firebrand in the trees.

Ginsberg froze, her coat came to life and she drew her ears until they stood stiffly atop her skull. The water that had cooled her limbs had spiked there, crusting her paws in dirt and mud. It seemed that the territories there were rife with the bodies of strangers. It was surprising to her that there were so many who had sought to live their lives in the same stretch of land. The wind was against her, carrying her scent directly toward the orange-furred wanderer.