Blacktail Deer Plateau her flesh is dust and ashes

there are steps, quiet against the forest floor, stealthy to the point that thyri almost misses them entirely. the self-proclaimed queen is cautious but does not feel threatened and thus does not feel the need to react with any sort of hostility or aggression as a chuff sounds through the air, designed to grasp the champagne and cremé woman's attention. as thryi's steps halt, her light caramel gaze moves towards the yearling whom had made the chuff, fluttering over her in a quick assessment. thryi has always been small and lithe and she has learned to use her elegant movements and the regal hold of her shoulders to offset the otherwise delicacy of her appearance. "hello," the wildheart offers the yearling before her, seeing no reason to be anything other than civil. there is a slight lift of thyri's muzzle as she draws in the other's scent, noting that other scents cling to her pelage: scents that she has picked up on trailing through the forest despite that she has yet to venture too far into it's depths.