Fairspell Meadow the honest man has numerous difficulties

sounds good to me! c: i wanted to make this a more sensible thing but i think i'm gonna sleeps instead so take it anyway

A day spent with the Sunspire only in her distant sights and not underneath her paws had hopefully done her an ounce of good. She was far too attached to that slab of stone, she reasoned. While she was grateful in ways she had not known before for it having escaped the storm without major, life-changing disaster, it would function well without her for a handful of hours. Which.. had been the intention early on.

She'd loitered all over the slopes of Spotted Eagle Mountain instead hunting, scouting, and otherwise in perpetual motion, only bothering to glance over her shoulder to her home a handful of times as she went. Hours came and went and she kept going, and simply never got around to returning to the Spire. Even when the next day dawned and she surfaced from her rest, she headed south on a whim instead.

Using the guise of observing further storm damages would be her official cause, but even so, it still felt a bit more indulgent than that.

She came to the Otter Creek, took care to wade and rise thoroughly, then set off into the open expanses of meadow renewed and refreshed. The sun warmed her shoulders, the grasses alternated between tall and sparse depending on her path, and she covered ground with a contented rhythm.

Scent soon prompted the dark female to slow, and in doing so, she drank in the new sights. Pronghorn. They were distant for now, and she peered ahead while assuming a stealthier approach. Their silhouettes distinct and coats bright almost-orange with a subtle muskiness unique to their sort on the breeze, they were not among her usual targets by any means. They still lured her closer, though. A considerable group was worth observing, if nothing else. It was good to see them doing well after the storm; further proof that the area by the mountain range had (mostly) weathered it well.

Another new element was soon revealed as she noticed the wolf lurking the grasses towards the antelopes. This changed the dynamics of her plans, and if luck would have it, opened new possibilities. He was wholly unfamiliar to her and she could only catch a glimpse of him now and then when the cover allowed. With that little bit behind her, she would have to bank on the likelihood of a common interest here, and stalked quickly into his periphery (and nearer to the pronghorn all at once). She offered him a brief signal that was hardly more than a glance -- I am fast, and will join you.. she intended to say wordlessly, and then began to swing wide.