Barrow Fields the lark in the morning

As Bat and @Tegan made their way to the bay tucked in beside the cliffs of her home—previous home, rather—the Goufa found herself falling behind. Not only was she tired and a little weak from her travels, she was also a bit reluctant to get too close to Drageda. What if someone saw her? She could just imagine Wildfire scouring all the neighboring territories, leaving no stone unturned in her search for the wayward Goufa; if the woman discovered her, she would drag Bat back there by one of her over-sized ears. It was a vivid enough mental picture to slow her already weary step.

When he called her out for being a slowpoke, though, she scurried forward and stuck close, warily scanning their surroundings as they edged along a sprawling plain. It was covered in a carpet of green grass that would soon fade and turn brown. A pale morning mist hovered a few inches above the ground like a thin white blanket. Bat paused to watch it drifting when she heard a scuffle, then the sound of a masculine voice that definitely didn't belong to Tegan. Besides, it was coming from entirely the wrong direction: behind her, not in front.

In the distance across the hazy plain, Bat observed as a rugged gray wolf approached a paler, svelter figure. The rolling timbre belonged to him. It made the youth's ears quiver. She watched the pair of strangers curiously, up until she spotted Tegan impatiently motioning from further afield. She took a last look at the wolves, wondering who they were, then faced forward and rejoined her companion.