Lake Rodney I'm always hungry or tired or both.

Though spring remained a far ways off, the land had finally entered a gradual thaw. Snow covered the ground in patches, like islands in the midst of the returning green. Back at the Fen the marshy ground remained frozen and brittle beneath the paw. Out here the paths proved solid beneath the Ostrega's feet, and more pleasant for travel.

Yesterday, Andalusia had set out from the Fen and headed Northbound, her destination set on the speck of forest that scarred the horizon. Though the Fen remained frozen, she planned to acquaint herself with the inland and scout out plants that would prove useful once the spring came in full. The morning brought light to her progress. Though the forest still stood a fair distance away, she calculated she could reach the outskirts by sundown, if she stayed her course at a persistent pace.

So Andalusia set out, tracing the shoreline she had claimed for the night. A stronger breeze cut against her today, furling up from the vast waters to her right. She shivered slightly, and took to a brisk trot. Her body would warm itself soon enough from the exercise; for the time, she bore with the cold. Yet not long had passed before she slowed herself, and pressed her ears to full attention. A few lengths up the shoreline, a towering shadow obstructed her path. He cut an impressive figure in the breaking dawn, and Andalusia stalled. Could she pass him? From her vantage she could not determine anything but his approximate size. She furrowed her brow and, after a pause, emitted a soft chuff to announce her presence. While she figured she could wait him out or skirt a path through the inland, doing so would be to her own expense, and time was a commodity she wasn't willing to waste.