Redsand Canyon iv: the wind, unchained

Though she no longer felt safe there, the occasions that Olive left her fortress upon the mountain were few. Though the availability of game waned, and the occasions of threat and harm became more plentiful, the mother let herself believe that if she did not descend, then she or her family could not get hurt. This theory had many holes, having been proven wrong time and time again, and it was only a matter of time until she came to the understanding that the time of safety and comfort, which had been her most recent zeitgeist, was over. 

The ashen fae descended the heights and passed the spot where her husband had died; and she did not stop there but kept moving closer and closer to the earth’s core, breeching the surface of the dirt to sidewind along the canyon walls, easily finding her footing on the narrow ledges for she was a lithe and spritely thing, despite the weight of the worries that oft kept her grounded. She made to appear like she was hunting, but she did no such thing. She shape shifted and she walked alongside the winds that billowed and gusted, 

Just then, her jade eye was caught by a flash of fur. The seraph pauses in her feigned hunt and lifts her nose to the winds, ears perched atop her head, wondering if this was a wolf she knew — or a coyote, the likes of which had stolen her first child away from her.