Wapun Meadow and every night my mind is running around her

She'd returned to the meadow where she'd left the marmot and gained her first wounds in the wilds, the gashes on her cheek and above her eye fairly healed, causing her only mild discomfort when she spoke. She returned in the light of day, now, leery after Murdock's talk of cannibals and wanting to make sure she didn't encounter one of them in the dark. 

The sky was fairly clear, but it was bitterly cold in a way that had her wish that she'd never come all the way out here. She shivered as she trotted back and forth across the meadow, a habit picked up over her travels that kept her fairly warm, trotting in the manner of a haughty horse, picking up her limbs almost comically high. She searched for signs of the marmot that had evaded her last time, but besides a few faint trails in the snow, came up empty.