The Bracken Woods Apathy

He notices right away, angling toward with intent. Thuringwethil stiffens, one paw hanging in the air as the space between them widens half a step. A war flashes across his face in the briefest of moments, she’s sure she imagined the haunting. The way he looks at her, through her a distance she can’t measure, sends a shiver down her spine she tightens in order to control. A few long strides forward and she closes the distance, testing their newfound relationship. 

Thuringwethil jerks her head, turning her whole body and trotting away. She might have lost the herd she’d been following but, if she could find the trail once more, she could find them again. An extra nose, able body—albeit looking hungry—they could find it once more. Heavy paws hit the ground as she moves, almost the way she’d come. His drive she’d seen a few moments ago, she doesn’t look back over her shoulder to see if he follows.

Ears cup forward, listening for thundering foot steps behind her to catch up before she starts to slow, easing the beating paws against the earth. A fallen tree up on the right reminds where she’s going and there’s a faint change in air that forces something vocal from her chest. Thuringwethil turns then, half a smirk on her dark features, to see if her new companion follows along.