Honeyed Pasture Eight seconds left in overdrive

ooc: no worries! :)

Luck would have it that the grumpier and angrier Donnelaith border patrollers were either on a break that day or were taking care of another portion of the forest elsewhere. Osprey had been out hunting all morning and had wandered as far as the Eastern edge of her home. She had lost the tracks of the hare she had been chasing and now, in order to regain her breath, she was walking at a leisurely pace. Occasionally she leaned down to pick up pieces of snow to quench the thirst. 

Had it not been for her sense of scent, which was the most acute one out of them all, she would not have noticed the young wolf lying in the snow with his belly exposed and walked right over him. Now Osprey stopped in her tracks and regarded the rather odd (and silly) visitor with a curious look. It occurred to her that she might have heard someone calling a while ago, but whether it was this fellow or a someone from the ranks, she did not know. "So - what do you want me to do now - ask you, how are you doing or eat you straight away?" she asked in a good-natured tone.