Razorback Ridge until it was all torn away

The irisvar was reluctant to linger upon the thin, treacherous peaks of the ridge but the anxiety attack had sapped her energy and she needed a moment to recuperate. She'd rest for a time, she'd decided, in the cool hours of the dawn; when the sun had risen and the day called, Fen would pick up the next leg of the journey. 

The healer'd been just lucky enough to locate a small cavern - a dark cavity hidden in the side of the mountain - but Razorback Ridge was a veritable desert in regards of life. Traveling herbs were her dinner, numbing the needling of hunger. 

Despite the hart's typical cave-inspired claustrophobia, she found herself too tired to be overtly agitated - resting sphinx-like by the mouth of her temporary shelter, pink tongue rasping over her chafed pawpads while the wind tugged at her pale wisps and made the remains of her herbal meal dance. 

Occasionally, her argent gaze rose to the view beyond the thin ledge of the mountain pass - and this was how she spotted him. 

A dark blip, he appeared suddenly - a passerby. If he were moving quicker, he might have seemed a trick of the eyes, a shadow in the peripherals. 

Her rosy lips parted in a silent gasp, for fear of startling him, as she drew back ever so slightly in surprise. 

The scent of the Empire was strong on the stranger's coat, which pierced her heart with poignant homesickness and a dash of fear. Was Takeshi so mad as to send pursuants after her?

"I vill be leavin' soon," the milkmother would murmur sincerely, diffidently (assuming the scout spotted her and stopped). 

"I vill keep me vord ta Emperor Takeshi." The last were said almost bitterly, the title delicately spat (as if the girlish druid wasn't accustomed to spitting often), and a soft scoff burst from her lips to punctuate exactly how she felt about the supposed Lord of the Vale.