Sawtooth Spire This city's gonna break my heart.

The squirrel bolted, sent sprinting off in the opposite direction. Cirilla, confidence bolstered by this obvious success, bounded forward and after it with a series of excitable sounds. It was quicker than her, naturally, and disappeared up into the willing branches of a nearby evergreen.

It perched, watchful of the little wolf who circled the tree below. Ciri's tail wagged triumphantly and she disregarded the offender with a snort as she turned to look for her mother's approval. She loped through the sodden grasses toward her, a beaming smile on her face.