Cedar Sweep i'll follow the sounds of wings

she is a flicker of flame, a memory of what fall once was. the colours have faded from the world, now, leaving browns and greys and the dull green of coniferous boughs. snow spots the hinterlands, half-melted and dingy, and the world seems weary. clutched in her jaws is a jay, moments ago loud and raucous. its feathers clung to her muzzle and chest as she moves south, searching for a place to quietly eat her meal. 

she has been alone for many months now, hardly speaking to others. the girl has learned much of the world, wandering as she always seems to, now. she is a yearling now, all sharp angles, willowy and bearing the flaming pelt that she was destined to wear. but still the druidess is alone, and as she crouches now to snap through the cooling body of the jay, she is confident in the knowledge that this is perfectly fine.