Otatso Wetlands Moonjock

@Malachi pledge thread! On the northern fringes of the wetlands

The late summer's crepuscular night began to shift into eventide, the dark canvas artistically painted with pastel hues. Twinkling stars faded into the dawn's rising light but sister moon's waning crescent glowed like a Cheshire grin, hanging low in the sky while the sun remained hidden by distant eastern peaks Tuwawi had left behind. Her mission had been successful. The Sveijarn matriarch had traveled quite a distance to scope out a new home for her ilk, and the glacial spires had been deemed more than worthy by the shrewd woman. However, it was not a land without risk. A lynx had managed to launch a surprise assault upon her and sting an auburn shoulder with its talons. If it were not for Kipling, she might have fared worse. Many fierce predators skulked among the dense woods; a thought Tuwawi could not shake. Certainly, the mountain terrain would be quite different compared to the rolling valley she had become accustomed to.

High altitudes gradually sloped into level plains, and the dank scene of the wetlands filled the air. It was a familiar scent to the ember, and it meant she was almost home. Perhaps a days worth of travel or less. She slowed to a stop, finding a moving pool to quench her thirst, to take a moment to enjoy the melodies of orchestral crickets and morning doves.