Heron Lake Plateau the burning bed

When she heard someone approaching she sat up, but didn't unspool herself. Her first instinct was to curl in to a tighter ball and try not to be seen, but it was obvious by the direct manner of the approaching sounds that she had been found-out already. Hiding wouldn't help matters. When the stranger drew nearer their steps became particularly loud, and Camilla read in to the stranger's intent with each crash that reverberated across the small isle; she thought they must be angry, that maybe she'd done something wrong. That thought made her peer through the dark with eyes bright with fear, and it compounded with every thundering beat of her heart until the figure materialized.

At first, she thought the dark face belonged to Phox; it was familiar enough, similar enough, and she relaxed a little bit. When they got a little closer she realized with some horror that it wasn't Phox at all — this stranger was similar in size and build, and dark-cast, but not entirely. There were flashes of autumn shades across their coat, and white patches turned grey by the shadows. Upon noticing these not-so-subtle differences, she instinctively coiled a little tighter and dropped her eyes away from them.