Redsand Canyon in the favor of wrongs being remedied

the stark otherness of this place and the beauty that comes with it is beginning to give way to the realities of carving out a life here. prey is scarce, or at least, far different than that she is used to hunting. most prey exists in the scaled, sinewy and small form that she is decidedly not fond of. still, the canyon remains interesting, though she does not know how long the novelty of it will last before it gives way to annoyance and indifference. 

the melonii trails along a river that begins now to steadily widen, considering the war that donovan had mentioned. she wants to understand it, its causes and it's future. donovan's failure to elaborate on the reasons for it irk her; she knows it can not have begun with a single fight between warriors. she id interested too in the business he'd mentioned, the one said warrior had thought his own. until she understands fully what had led donovan's saints to flee to this place, she is hesitant to consider this any more than a waypoint. 

before her, something moves, alighting on an overhang of rock. a wolf, dark, scarred, and in possession of the same tail donovan had curled over his back. this one too appears significantly shorter than her, to her dull pleasure. her father had not offered her much in the short time he'd appeared in her life, but the height she'd inherited was all she needed from him. she chuffs, a low sound as she draws nearer, drawing to a stop. molten gaze flicks up to trace over the male before her, wondering why the large part of donovan's group she'd already met seemed just a little off in their appearance.