Seaside Moors the first taste.

The first thing she heard was a sharp call, too close, too loud among the quiet of the seemingly empty landscape. It startled her. She punched the ground without meaning to, her shoulders tensing and forequarter bobbing low, while her tail swung in opposition - first up, puffed, and then down and curling at her underparts.

She snaked back a step and caught herself roughly against some stonework, feeling the drag of its coarse texture against her coat. Her head was low, her ears slicked back. All over the course of several seconds - as the gilded stranger came racing to her position.

Nukilik's tongue-tip rimmed her lips, another sign of deference - or rather, an apology. Was she not supposed to be here? Had she delved too far while studying this place, with its many scents and strange configurations? Judging from the fierce arrival of this woman, yes.

She needed to calm herself down. It had been months since her last interaction with another woman; there had been a few men in her travels, but none that lingered long, and few that treated her well. None had intercepted her with such investment, which was probably for her own benefit - she had ended her quest childless, after all.

A low sound pealed from her throat, something of a hum, a pleading tone. Her body was sickled against a backdrop of uneven rock as she tried to make herself smaller. I mean no harm! The green tempted me, I am nobody, please don't -- don't hurt me, she wished in that fervent moment that the last few months had never transpired.