Finding her place was not as simple as she once assumed it may be; travelling beyond the mountain was hardly her thing, nor patrols or much anything else besides finding new crevices to call her own. But recently she’d taken a liking to hunting—more specifically, small game. It was easier than large game and something she could do on her own—additionally, certain animals often led her to new hideaways as they sought to escape her. It was the latter she was most interested in, of course, and what had her trailing after the scent of a raccoon.

That she was being trailed after went momentarily unnoticed, her focus honed in on the task at hand. She followed the trail until the creator of it was revealed—and then she gave chase as it sought safety but, ultimately, the raccoon did not fall victim to her jaws. It did, however, deposit her near its burrow.

A burrow that was then found on accident—when the agouti girl fell into it, too caught up in her attempts at relocating the raccoon to notice it was there. A sharp yipe the only sound to escape her, body seemingly to have vanished—

Sore from the impact, she shook herself the best she could in the compact space. The girl was somewhat dazed, mind still processing what exactly happened, when she heard a chuff—which, at first, she did not respond to. Slowly and carefully, she raised her head to peek up out of the burrow, and there she spied the child.

Doing a quick glance around and finding no one else, Yama hoisted herself up and dragged her body from the trap. Once out, she gave a proper shake of her pelt and looked to the boy, to whom she returned the chuff; she likely would have said more, if not the embarrassment felt keeping her quiet.

Out she spied the child, whose expression left little for the mind to wonder about; surprised, perhaps as much as she’d been upon taking her fall. “Careful,” she warned. “You wouldn’t want to fall in there.” As if to further encourage him, she took several steps away from the hidden trap. “It’s not a good hideaway...” came out, almost absentmindedly, whilst she shook her head. Perhaps further emphasising her lack of socialising.

A question, which made her brows scrunch together. She had always considered her hideaways to be places for her to relax away from others—but was she hiding, too? Carefully, she shook her head.

“Not exactly...?” she answered. “Maybe... what are you doing here?” So used to moving about without running into others, she was curious.

Learning came his reply, following a brief silence. Slowly, her brows pinched together as she couldn’t help but ask, “Learning what?” She couldn’t recall seeing anyone else with him, nor had she seen him when her search first began. So what on earth could he be learning, out on his own?

Silence.

It felt like forever beneath the child’s gaze, only for the answer to be not the least bit more insightful. Trying to swallow her uncertainty, she shuffled her paws and said, “Oh.” Yama could not read him well at all, which only added to her discomfort towards being there. “Okay,” she added with a small nod. Slowly, she started to turn, eyeing the path beyond the hole. Did he want to join her...?

The sound of footfalls at her hind gave way to his joining, something she wasn’t yet sure how to feel about—both because the child made her uncomfortable and because, too, she was not accustomed to having anyone else along for her searches. Honestly, the last to accompany the Ostrega was likely her father—after that, her hideaways were kept entirely to herself, as she no longer had someone she wished to share them with.

No matter, she continued forward, nose to the ground. But when she could not pick up on any scents worth pursing, she stopped and glanced back at her companion. “Do you smell anything?” she asked, pawing at her nose and then jutting it towards the ground in the process.