Lost Creek Hollow making waves in pitch black sand.

Again, Shikoba was forced to stop. The noise of her paws had alerted Harlyn, and she had to curse herself in her mind. The native was frozen in place, wary of moving. She felt as if she was glued to the floor, afarid of being caught out of her den when she was deliberately told to stay and heal.

If she was found out, she would be in some deep trouble. Looking around hastily, Shikoba kept moving, though her belly almost dragged against the floor. She was in a slinking position near the ground, slowly moving forward. She again swung wide, fear clinging to her bones like nasty fleas. Her aroma of blood seemed to lessen, but her nose was all jacked up from Shardul's claws.

The native held her breath.