Lost Creek Hollow making waves in pitch black sand.

Sounds good!

Harlyn paused along the landscape as she came to a tree whose trunk was covered in bits of lichen. She ran her nose along it, sniffing intently to determine its species and glean whatever else she could of its properties. It was something she hadn't encountered before, but it held traces of familiarity in comparison to other kinds she had used before. Her tongue flicked across it and she leaned back to put her attention to discerning its taste, pondering the possibilities as her taste buds buzzed with the flavor.

A sound caused her to pause, and she turned abruptly to face the source. She was on full alert; ears perked, tail held high and eyes narrowed as she scanned each corner of her shaded hold. There was nothing on the wind that suggested danger, but Harlyn would not be convinced until she knew for sure. Quietly, she crouched, and proceeded forward - her senses attentive to every aspect of her surroundings.