Jade Fern Grove Trebuchet warning cycle

Her purpose was unknown; an odd thing for a creature of safe mind to lay eyes upon. Yet something was driving her onwards, a yearning perhaps, to hide; to bury that foolish part of her. Through the harsh scrapings and untuneful notes, the choking query of a femanine voice slipped right over her receptors and it was only when a strange odour overrode that of soil and rock did she turn to face her questioner, front paws still knee-deep in the hole.

Her nose twitched, humming slowing to a shuddering halt as her distant gaze studied the vixen; a relatively sturdy indevidual coated in a multitude of earthy tones. "Who's Elora?" she asked, estranged memory not recognising the woman, nor her own name. "I'm Cotillita, at least for now." She tossed her snout back towards the hole, her expression distant.