Broken Boulder one's her petty vogue ideals

The corners of her eyes crinkle at the description of the new territory.  She wishes that Olive or Delight were present, so she could share this moment with them; her heart thrums as she remembers that the latter is missing.  If they left now, he might not be able to find them again.  Their scent trail would be easy to follow for some time, but she didn't know when — or if — he was coming back.  Her smile falters.

Ready was a good word.  After all they'd been through, ready was about all she was.  It was time to move on to greener pastures.  Literally, in this case.