Blackfeather Woods does the lighthouse shine to seek, or to be found?

Ocracoke moves quickly when Relmyna makes a sound, hoping to be close enough for a connection. Ears firmly crown the top of her head, lowering a little close to where she’d heard her call. Her nose flares several times until she bumps against the prize, nearly inhaling the food whole in a matter of seconds. The growling of her stomach driving her forward when she’d usually take it and shy away, or save it for later. It settles uncomfortably in her stomach, and she coughs, unexpectedly belching. Her ears fall back instantly despite how much it settles her stomach and her head turns back toward where (she thinks) she’s been working.
 
Scuffling of dirt directs her focus as Relmyna digs a little in the loose dirt. For a long moment, she’s quiet, uncertain what she wants. “I-I-I,” she tries, snapping her teeth back together when her voice refuses to form the words. Ocracoke swallows the lump in her throat and moves forward, feeling forward what she’s accomplished. A shallow divot in the ground that is more wide than deep. She scuffs at the dirt to acknowledge what she’s been doing before she steps forward and turns a few circles, laying down in the dirt. Not finding the comfort, she strains to stand and shuffles out of the way.
 
She picks up her paw to indicate the spot that doesn’t quite form to her position when a stab through her groin catches her off guard. Frozen briefly, she grits her teeth, relaxing a few seconds later when it passes.