Ouroboros Spine crooked but upright

If anything, those changes to Tonravik's scent were enough to tell her much of what had changed. That she had fulfilled some carnal, biological desire and necessity. That the future would hold much for what would come in the following weeks. But she did not dote upon this or think much of it yet, instead slipping into the thick shadows along with her aokkatti. And there she settled in the scattered and speckled sunlight that pored through. It was not the cool depths like Tonravik would have sought; Echelon chose to condition herself properly and yet quickly.

Lying prone and seemingly vunerable on her side, she rooted about the damp earth for the scents that were there. They were of home, and she missed them as well. Though her tongue still willed itself to loll out of her mouth at times, she would cool soon enough. But for now she was content simply to lay her gaze on Tonravik once more, appealing to the questions that she did not verbally ask. It almost seemed as though she suggested a what else. Their borders were strong, yet tainted with scents of others. Something else had happened in her absence.