Blackfeather Woods going off my head, down to somewhere

the parading of the dirt-clung root was short-lived, for a white streak bludgeoned the thick black of averna's shoulders, spurning her back with a growl that caused her to drop the root. her prized possession, her hardfought trophy -- it was yoinked rudely from her.

thief! miscreant! astara had only a moment to collect her wits, and shot her mother the most disbelieving stare before her competitive nature took the better of her. she cantered clumsily after her sister, growling as she gained ground. it was her stick! she had seen it first! fueled by the instinct to win, astara went for the next best thing -- averna's outstretched tail.