Blacktail Deer Plateau This dream of going upstream.

As Ibis emerged from a bit of forest on to a ledge of weathered stone, she felt the sunlight cross her shoulders, touch upon her face, and squinted. It was warmer in the sun but still not as warm as she would have liked; the wintertime would be upon them soon, and without a pack to keep them all safe, she worried about her daughters.

A sound erupted from nearby, and she opened her eyes to look around, blinking as shapes were burned in to her vision. As they dissipated she could make out a four-legged shape drawing closer; she thought, my, what a beautifully soft coat they have. It wasn't quite brown, and it wasn't quite wheat, nor fully cream, but a mixture of all of those things at the same time.

You uhhh, live live here? The voice purred. Ibis blinked again, smiling in a friendly manner until the obvious dawned upon her: this person wasn't the right size to be a wolf, they were much bigger and much more lean. The woman saw the face of the cougar and warning bells rang in her brain. Her fur spiked, her tail stuck straight-up and puffed.

Leading the cat back to where her daughter slept was, obviously, not the way to go. She wanted to run. Running might spur the cat in to hunting mode, and Ibis was so small compared to it - there would be no escape. She had to think quickly, and knew the only safe option was to keep it talking so that she could find a peaceful manner in which to escape.

I.. I do. Myself, my husband, our -- our pack. Her trembling voice spoke volumes. Ibis tried to stand proudly and look intimidating with her short coat spiking all over, trying to make it sound like a bad idea to come after her. The plateau has been in his family for years. W-What are you doing here? It isn't safe for your kind.