Emberwood darling, take me to the lakeside

---

the cracking of undergrowth already had her auds twisted to focus only on the distant sound, tracking it carefully as it came near. before the other sounded their bark, she had already drawn high her muzzle, deep gaze settled firmly on the shadow as it offered its odd bark. breeze stirred again, and the sylph waited until the grasses had stopped their whispering before offering a chuff in return; caring little for the shadow's oddness. for was she too not different, painted in the burning hues she was and made sharp and spindly? gaze shuttered against the sun's persistent glare, waiting patiently.