Barrow Fields love 'em and leave 'em

Sequoia was fast-approaching five months old, and it showed. Whether or not it was true, she considered herself an adult. Her bones were still growing, and she had a lot of filling out to do, but she felt like an adult. She was friends with adults, she politely declined to play children's games, and she was recruiting members for Drageda. If that wasn't adulting, she didn't know what was! Not only that, but she was inching further and further away from home base. Something tugged at her to reach beyond Drageda, although she obediently returned every evening.

This place was odd, although Sequoia couldn't pinpoint why it was odd. Something about the smooth surface of the ground and the occasional lump put her on edge, for reasons she could not begin to put into words.

She picked up a green scent and began to hunt it down, following it across the open landscape in the chilly, harsh wind of the afternoon. She found him after thirty or forty minutes, a reddish tan stuck out like a sore thumb on the white of the snow. He looked to be mumbling something, and Sequoia woofed to announce her presence.