Blackfoot Forest Our Names Won't Be Remembered

Not that Jaguara knew any better but she was quite the opposite. The cries of the foxes in the area did little to agitate her—but few things actually did. If anything her eyes widened at entering the forest, her explorations heading more north, this discovery in particular making her schedule. The south of the Wilds seemed a darkened dangerous the place, and while the mountains had been treacherous in their own way she found the atmosphere remained brisk and refreshing rather than damp. This forest changed the scene entirely to what she’d experienced in her travels around the mountain slopes, and proved to her that not all her assumptions were well placed.

Jaguara knew well the stars, skies, plants and stones, but had yet to come to peace with the land entirely, so her travels were rather slow, weighed down by thoughts and decisions though she voyaged on no predetermined course. She had so far been unable to pin down exactly what she was looking for. She accepted that when she found it, she would know. At the moment she fancied any interest that happened to take her attention. So it wasn’t out of place for her to pause and observe the male trekking rather… anxiously from what she could read. She doubled-backed, approaching him steadily and quite casually for a stranger, but it was just her way of being. 

“If you’re afraid of the dark I would hurry quickly, the clouds coming from the East looked hungry—they’re bound to swallow the Moon whole.” She advised.