Whitebark Stream An exercise in futility

Isley was far from any scents or claims, exploring on her own for a bit while Palisander was off doing whatever it was he was choosing to fill his time with. While they had spent a large amount of time together they were not inseparable and the time apart left her chances to think freely and access. She was still reluctant to leave her Meadow, and yet, there was a growing sensation in her of anticipation and excitement. It would probably not  be something she would vocalize to Palisander, at least not for awhile, and so she would hold it in until she couldn't anymore. 

She was filling her thirst when a booming voice cut across the terrain, and for a moment Isley lifted her head to observe. The sulking beast was massive - and most definitely he was male. She frowned, pelt bristling as she backed a few steps back. Her emerald eyes cut across the lands trying to anticipate where she might get away from him. She didn't want to be cut off by the river itself, perhaps she would return the way she came - if she could put enough distance between them surely she could outrun him.