Whitewater Gorge Geronimo

Naturally, he was curious as to whether her father and brother could hunt. "Oh, yeah. My dad's actually a quite masterful hunter. It took him some time to adapt—he lost his vision a few months ago—but he's still a killing machine. Nightjar was born without hearing in his one ear, so I don't think he really feels like he's at a disadvantage." He had never known the difference and, as far as Wildfire could tell, it hadn't hindered his ability to bring down prey or contribute in plenty of other ways, for that matter.

Thinking of them made her a little homesick, not for Moonspear but for the caldera. She couldn't go back there, of course, but it was probably time to head back to the mountain. She had promised Floki she could be back by evening and she had a significant amount of traveling to do before night fell. She glanced around, satisfied with the day's efforts, amber eyes eventually coming to rest on Anwyl.

"I think it's time I head back," she said, a quiet apology in her voice for drawing their meeting to a close. "How far away is the ridge? Moonstick is several miles southwest of here," Wildfire mentioned, lips curving at their now inside joke. "I told Floki I'd try to be home for dinner... by bedtime, at the very latest." As she spoke, she climbed to her feet, physically and mentally bracing herself for the climb out of the gorge.

"You walking with me or are you gonna stay down here a little longer?" she asked, black tail waving patiently as she eyeballed her new friend.