Shy Deer Steppes she the hunted

A place she had never heard of.

No surprise, as she had not heard of very much. Her social skills were a bit stunted for it, and none could call the bedraggled coyote graceful in any sense of the word. Mouseberry needed little convincing, when food was on the proverbial table. The beryl eyed girl emerged from her shroud of thorns in full now.

Mouseberry shrank some even still, a natural skeptic. Mouseberry, she appropriately squeaked as she beheld the jewel; a prettier thing than her, in every way.