rumor was circulating about a big cat prowling in the east, near the sheer-faced escarpment. although phaedra was not so much an idiot as to escort herself into danger's unhinged jaws, and would avoid the cuesta itself, she couldn't help glutting her curiosity about the emerald realm below it. 

the main river unspooled before her, winding through the arcaded gorge like a thread. the intrepid girl explored its stony hall, avoiding the murkwater that flowed alongside her, for fear of what might happen should it get ahold of her. instead, the girl followed its trajectory until the earthwork chiseled out into a verdant gorge awash with sunlight and birdsong. 

phaedra tasted the pale wind, felt it tug at her ruff as if with purpose, such that she wove her body around the sash of it and felt bereft when it left her to rustle the leaves of trees. it told nothing of any cat, large or otherwise. coming from the north, at any rate. the daredevil in her was disappointed, heedless of the certain dangers that success would have imposed.

shortly she was bored and picked up a large stick. she whirled with the wild abandonment of a dervish, wielding her nature-forged sword, and weaponized it against the trees which bodied each blow with an echoing thunk.