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all welcome but paging @Gracious
dated for 8/1

It was with a withering muse of ’Coyote-slayer.’ Sure, that the herbalist situated herself amidst a smattering of crags, snowy snout wrinkling at the bright scuffing of her shoulder. Pink nose twitched at the faint scent of iron, and as Aure began to lave her tongue across the little hurt, argent half-sight narrowed in the direction which the lesser breed had taken.

She’d promised to her son that there’d be no more ‘going off and getting herself hurt’ anymore — but as it was, scuffles over prey would be justifiable enough.
Drago. Hazel eyes, with his mother’s pink nose. His father’s fur, tinted with the mauve of her own mother.

The silver rose from her post before the worry could rise in her heart.

There was still a hunt to be had; and so she swaned once more into the sea of earthen gold with a meager flourish of a feathery tail.