Redhawk Caldera Fall'n leaves

so far, no good - caiaphas kept her muzzle rooted to the ground in the manner of a truffle-seeking boar. the earth before her was dry and without shadowed egress -- so intent was she in her vain search that she barely heard the approach of another until he was nearly immediately upon her.

she froze and then cowed to the ground, her ears pulled back against her bony skull in alarm and the sharp curve of her narrow belly flush against the cool earth. between her tense paws she felt the rife cold of loam - the soft breeze behind her neck - strange things to note in times of upending peril.

the wolf before her was much taller than her - much fitter - much stronger. the splash of flecking against his muzzle lent him a sage appearance but caiaphas was left with the distinct impression he was not ailed by geriatric weakness. an air of patriarchy exuded about him -- but she found it neither comforting or warm. "i'm lost." she admitted -- and it was true -- though she did not seem alarmed by the prospect. "took a tunnel from the shore. lots of tunnels around blackfeather. ended up near a marsh north of them, found another tunnel, then another, then another. so i'm here." the tunnels were not linear in their pathway - it was not as if one lead straight from the shore to where she was -- but have enough time and inclination on your hands and it was not surprising the weasel had ferreted out yet another clammy recess in which to explore. "where am i?" she inquired - her posture still subservient as she panted anxiously on the ground.