Heron Lake Plateau It's never been the lens that I see through

Clover's enthusiastic shouts helped to spur the rest of the herd away from the doe that Niamh had singled out, and though it wanted desparately to rejoin them, there was a streak of blonde fur at its flank that continued to snap at its fleeing hocks every time it made to swerve. She could see panic in the whites of its soft brown eyes, and it encouraged her. It was watching her with its peripheral vision, which was perfect- considering that she had it headed almost straight for where she'd left Phox hiding in wait.