Dawn Treader Valley Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene

@Buckwheat <3

Sunlight broke through the clouds, scattering faint gilded beams across the valley. High noon, and the world was vibrant but subdued all around her. Foxglove couldn't help but be taken by the urge to dance.

So she twirled through the grass, her tail high, her fur whipping in the breeze. Occasionally she stopped to sniff here and there, her gaze inevitably caught by something bright or shining beneath the sunlight. Eventually she would return to her golden sanctuary — but it was beautiful here, too, and she just had to see all of it.

Buckwheat was stripped of her collar. 

And now she roams these foreign lands with a feeling of nakedness. Each evening, as the sun sets upon her lonely figure, she paws at her scarred neck where her emblem once was. There was a faraway hope that one night she'd feel that familiar leather again, and the cold, metal prongs that jutted in each direction. A dream that one of these days purpose shall return to her.

Buckwheat had made one too many mistakes in this past year. Now she was to pay the price by spending it in the wilds.

Was this to be her final winter? Would her final moments be spent listening to the mocking howls of distant beasts? These were questions for a future self, for today she still stood.

She found herself within a golden valley today. As she neared the peak of a hill, Buckwheat halted at the sight of another. A kind of beast she'd grown all too familiar with. Instinctively her lips peel back to reveal yellowed teeth, but she conceals them as thoughts roll by.

Right, Buckwheat was no savior. Not anymore. And with nothing to protect, and no clear hostility from this young wolf, there was no reason to spill blood.

The dog sat stiffly on her haunches, and watched the golden child dance from uphill.

Foxglove was no stranger to the reality of the world, the sheer variety of the beasts that occupied it. She'd met dogs before, of course. So when she spotted the scarred dog sitting uphill, a lone silhouette simply watching from her perch, Fox wasn't alarmed. Not at all.

She halted where she stood, ears pulling forward, and called out with a series of high, sharp barks. Her tail swayed behind her. For the moment she only stood, watching; waiting to see how her greeting would be received.