Sleepy Fox Hollow it is the east, and Juliet is the sun

Long before reaching the peak of the mountain, the exhausted Wylla found a mountain pass that spat her out on a high shelf overlooking a small, sparsely wooded valley. With winter in full swing, there wasn't much to it: a wide brown-and-white expanse of light snowfall with bare trunks dotting the landscape, providing little in way of cover aside from its mountainous walls. The vagabond's lips twitched disapprovingly, but she began her descent anyway. There wasn't really anywhere to hide if bigger, badder predators were about, but at least it wasn't more climbing.

She was about halfway down, picking her way cautiously along a narrow ridge, when she first spotted Sif. From on high, Wylla watched the skinny yearling circle around the cliff's edge, sniffing and seemingly looking for something. From her perch, she couldn't see that there was water coming from somewhere, nor that it fed the bright ribbon in the valley that suggested a creek or stream. Sif's behaviour was therefore odd to her, and in true Wylla fashion, she drew a few conclusions. Seating herself and curling her tail demurely around her left side, Wylla scoffed and unkindly called out, "you know, if you're looking for an easy out, I can give you a hand."