Neverwinter Forest sundown

The later days of summer kept her on the hunt--honed sharp and vigorously lean, now that her whelps were plenty old enough. After word of famine on a mountain across the valleys had trickled back to her ears, she spared no opportunity to rove on the game trails and pad their caches when luck helped guide her strikes. Although Moonspear's slopes were verdant, it didn't give her much pause now--not when it could change in an instant. They were mindful of what they had, and never drove their population skyhigh, she knew elements beyond their control could always force it anyway. 

Good condition and weather headed her route. She tracked her eve's fresh deer trails successfully into Neverwinter, not pausing as she threaded deeper into these familiar old woods. With the growing dark and the new cover, she took readily to the shadows and jogged on, though the thread on her initial quarry seemed to grow hazy through a certain stretch of forest that soon slowed her progress and gait alike. She eventually went on all the same, hopeful this would change until it was strange sounds--not footsteps or true scent trails--that piqued her curiosity and began to steer her closer for a better look.