Falls of the Hinterlands cascades of the moon god

He'd left the lake and ventured further, wandering for around a day or so. Night was falling as the roar of water came to his ears, and he remembered the voice of the ocean, though this one was not nearly as deep and powerful. He knew of waterfalls, and he knew that this was what he would see when he broke through the dark foliage of the forest.

His mouth felt leathery even as the sound of the water made saliva pool there. In somewhat of a haste, his large front paw broke a twig in half with a loud snap. He froze, ashamed of the clumsiness he rarely displayed, and peered into the dark toward the water. And he saw that he was not alone. 

There was something familiar about the lanky figure ahead; something about the cascades of thick cocoa and toffee fur that draped it. It took a lot to startle Lovecraft, but when he recognized the woman by the water his jaws parted in surprise. 

Wren.