Moonspear The truth of the matter

Short days and long, chilly winter nights had her restless and yet full of energy. They were approaching the longest, darkest days of the year and its influence had long since seeped into her day to day. She was finding herself more sensitive to the shifting seasons the older she became, even when the weather seemed not nearly as fierce as in year's past. Or, perhaps many moons of watchful naturalism had brought her more into the rhythm of nature.

Fruitlessly tracking the goats higher up the slopes had finally worn her down enough to call it off, so she was heading down when Thistle's trail caught her attention. She paused for a beat before deciding to follow it until she caught sight of the sandy-coated female. With no time between only the two of them to recall, she was not sure what would be waiting for her there, but it was high time to establish something. Ame moved closer -- tail relaxed, but up tall, and rest of her body language suggesting interest in how she would be received here. She didn't get the impression she was interrupting anything, but it was too soon to tell.

She chuffed her customary low greeting while observing the matriarch.