Moonstone Quarry black vultures circling the sky

The sound of tumbling rock echoed against the steep limestone walls of the quarry. Instinctively the dark female paused in her tracks, her hackles rising defensively as her head turned about in search of its origin. Some distance behind her, she spotted a dark grey figure now moving to follow along the same path that she had taken. 

Frøya sniffed at the air curiously, breathing in the scent of the loner on the crisp early evening breeze. The female had not expected, nor wanted, for company — but now that the male was here, she would not run him off. He had kept a respectful distance and, from the sounds of it, he could use some direction in navigating the quarry paths. Jumping down to join onto another trail, she trotted along the narrow path a few metres before glancing back over her shoulder. "This way." She called, an instruction for the stranger to follow after her if he should posess the nerve to jump from one path to the next like she had.

She loped further down the path again, her deep orange eyes now dancing along the pale crystalline water of the pool below, and then back to the trail she was currently taking. She could see no clear way down, but she knew the path would at least get her closer to her destination. Perhaps if the male should dare to follow after her, he might offer some insight of his own. She stopped again and glanced behind her in search of his dark grey figure, interested to see if he had kept up or decided to turn back the way he had come.