Whitebark Stream always gonna steal your thunder

She woke with a start, breath condensing in twin clouds of fog as she blinked, lurching to her feet as her gaze scanned their surroundings wildly. When the heaving of her chest paused did she relax, gazing sullenly into the wood. She didn't have nightmares. But still, whatever the hell that dream had been had shaken her thoroughly from sleep, and with a soft sound she pad away from the rest, muzzle upturned to catch a glimpse of the sky as the fragments lingered between the skeletal branches.

It was that motionless time of the night, too late for the nocturnal creatures to be active, but too early for the day's creatures to shift from their sleep. It was the time of in-between, and the fiery girl slipped between the trees with a kind of carefulness she did not usually possess, drifting aimlessly as she worked away the lingering shadows of unease.