Northstar Vale You know me, you know my way in.

Ciri, hot on the trail, weaved swiftly and silently between each tree trunk. The goats' musk hung heavy in the damp air, strong - they were close. Her ears fluttered eagerly, pricking forward and spraying to each side, searching for any sound that might belong to her prize.

It would be the last they'd make, she mused.

A bleat, then! Ciri loved forward on nimble paws, yellow eyes studying ahead, until she realised the creatures had changed course. They'd veered off sharply to the right, the disturbance on the forest floor suggested something had spooked them, and the swallow cursed under her breath. They would be on edge now, lessening her chances of success. 

She, too, felt cautious. Her gaze drifted curiously among the foliage, and almost missed the large mass of earthen furs settled not far ahead. Ciri twitched her nose, felt the coarse fur along her nape rise defensively, for her initial thought was that the beast could only be a young bear.

If it was, its mother would not be far.

The yearling stared, silent and wary, and racked her mind for a safe way out of harm's way.