Redhawk Caldera And I've been working there myself

Roswell had run off, and she supposed she couldn't stop him. Besides, the smell of hare was heavy in the air, and if he felt the need to chase after game then more power to him. Smiling, she moved along, chin lifted, scouting for something—or someone—of interest.

She found said someone in the form of Maia, and she made her way down to the woman, grinning ear-to-ear.

Hey, there, she greeted, and began to leave subtle traces of herself along the border as Maia did, catching onto the drill quickly. Sure is something here. A lot steeper than the fen, for sure.

There was a note in her voice she couldn't quite bite back; whether it was nostalgia for the valley or homesickness for the fen, she didn't know.

This was home, now. That was all she really knew.