Whitefish River purple thorns

After descending the mountain, then finding herself continually disgusted by the proximity of the plains pack's scent, she made stealthy passage and headed north for the river. While unimpressed with the goings on down here in the wilds below her mountain, that was all there was to be done for now. Judging by the best scent she could catch wind of, here interests were still further ahead..

Days prior, she had seen smoke rising from the distance. Eventually, even the scent of woodsmoke drifted her way alongside a soaking rain -- which were frequent on these muggy days lately. This led her to believe it had not been able to spread far, but she was curious of where it had been exactly. Easily, it could have been the Sunspire's slopes afflicted by the blaze, or even grounds she hunted upon.

She found her trail heading closer and closer to the Plateau by the minute, and wondered idly if it had been there exactly. Ame skirted over thought of the pack, and a small handful of the individuals she knew -- Lasher, and the sterling male most recently. This thought remained short-lived as a touch of hunger diverted her attention, even with the Plateau's silhouette looming on the horizon. She made her way into the waters of the river, traveled on its edge until the scenery suited, then waded a little deeper. After a few failed attempts at skimming out something edible (and big enough to be worth stopping for), she finally slung her wet head back with a silvered prize in her jaws.

She paused at the bank to eat her fish, but listened keenly, and swore she could still smell the faintest hints of old burnt wood.