Dawnlark Plains i can feel it on the back of my tongue

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trade thread - tracker
perhaps it is the northern's words that haunt her, the lingering feeling that she ought to have done better; protected their hunting grounds without making an unsavory first impression. yet whatever the reason, she's stayed mainly within the maplewood and plains; the itch in her paws strangely lacking. 

instead, she'd found herself watching carefully the herd they'd picked the aging buck off from, gaze drifting from creature to creature, lingering here and there on the aging, the one who seemed young and bold; and therefore likely to make mistakes that could make it either a good target, or a fearless adversary. she huffed, finding some shelter under the sparse canopy that spread out from the maplewood, rain driving into the flat earth all around.