Arrow Lake she's into superstitions

He wanders East off his desert homeland. To the river of glacial water that also flows into the canyon but at a much slower rate. The falls are wild and the river that follows is surely dangerous.  The tranquility of it all when one isn’t in perils way, then the place is all quite serene — pleasant in a way that makes him stand there just taking in the scenery before him.

Eyes travel from the river and further up towards the waterfall. The plume of mist hangs about the waterfall and then he sees a figure sitting on a piece of flat rock that juts our from the rock face. Their form is ghost like — mysterious and fascinating all at once. He allows himself to pad closer and gaze curious canary orbs up to them. For a second Donovan wonders if they’re real.

“Hey.” He calls loud enough to be heard over the waterfall yet his tone is soft. “Who’re you?” He asks with a quirk of a circular white brow. He’s so captivated by her snow white fur a the feathers decorating the softer plume of fur just behind her ear. She’s fucking stunning. Surely if one looks long enough they could tell he is staring up at them in awe.