Qeya River here come the church mice trying too hard

— open for anyone.

Mid-morning came and by then, Mojave had already set off to explore the surrounding area from the pack. She figured it would do her good to know at least some of the landmarks around the place, though whether or not that was true she hadn't the faintest idea. This region was different from her prior home, more like the home she was begun to let go of in her first year of life. Open valley and fields, dotting with forestry and pinched and puckered with mountain ranges as far as her eyes could tell. It wasn't dense with forestry like the Lore had been, which she found she missed. A bit more forestry would have done some good with the summery warmth already beating down on them. It may not have done a lot of good for the humidity (spoiler, it would have more than likely) but at least she would have had to contend with the heat smothering her.

When the natural landscape dipped towards water, she was drawn in towards it without question or hesitation. A drink would do her some good, maybe even enough to stop and pause and rest some weary feet that had long been on the road for many weeks. She didn't plan on going too much further than that anyway, not without giving some sort of notice about what she was doing. Last thing she wanted to do was going wandering for a bit and end up coming back to meet the unhappy mouths of angry not-so-known packmates up in arms about where she had disappeared off to.

Stretching out her limbs as she sidled up on the damp bank of the river, the milk-and-honey she-wolf licked her lips with anticipation. At least here, she didn't feel the oppression the heat was wont to give off. The shade from the glacial region above helped some and as she quickly discovered with a sure lap of the water — it was cold. Bitterly cold. Mojave jerked back from the shoreline, breathing out shakily at what was the latest shock of her life that week.

iron & wine, "sundown (back in the briars)".