Morningside Cuesta don't make a shadow of yourself

@Luke!

The hollow was so different from her home lands, and though she recognized the value in that, she had pangs of longing for familiarity, during which she wished for the dry, cracked ground beneath her paws instead of the lush grass, when she missed spending long afternoons picking her way up the steep canyon walls, seeing how high she could get before she couldn't find a foothold.

In such a mood, she wandered a ways from the hollow in the early morning when the first fingers of light were stretching toward the sky until she found the cuesta, a rolling hill the stopped short and gave way to some precarious cliff faces and rocky ledges. A river was nestled into the rocks at the bottom, and with a wag of her tail and a small hum of pleasure, Bhreac set to finding her way to the river. It wasn't an easy process, and she spent most of the time circling from the top, trying to find the greatest slope. 

It took the better part of the morning to find her way to the bottom; it'd been a while before she'd done something like that, but it felt familiar and comforting, to keep her eyes fixed on the careful placement of her feet, her mind on moving her body exactly as she needed to safely find the bottom. She'd been talking what felt like constantly over the past few days, which wasn't really her favorite thing, although it felt like a necessity. This felt much more like her — quiet, focused, physical. 

She hopped off the final ledge onto the level ground, and made her way to the water's edge, drinking greedily to wet her dry mouth after the somewhat long downward climb in the summer heat.