Redsand Canyon restless

Kalina was restless, as always, and had traveled far in the last few days up from the flatlands and was now in the mountains. She stopped here, in this strange canyon full of rusty rocks and a floor of sand. It was a strange, alien landscape for someone who had grown up in small rolling mountains of brush, winding creeks, and open skies. She had never felt so enclosed, trapped by spires of rock that towered above her towards the sky. But the sand felt nice under paws and the act of exploring a new area made her happy—and restless.

Kalina was always restless. Always. Always moving, running away, or running towards, wishing always to twine her body around some male somewhere. Her instincts were strong, the instincts to carry her genes to the next generation. There was a massive and inescapable disappointment raging through her body that she had missed her heat this year, the first year that she could have had pups. It caused this restlessness. She wanted to throw herself at everything that moved. Instead she wound her way, catlike, through this maze of red spires, and hoped that none of them decided to fall down on top of her.