Lion Head Mesa upon a path of old primrose

in the early evening nazli was given the task to hunt, not for the first time in her life, and she returned to the alcoves with a quail between her teeth. it hadn't been a particularly exceptional hunt; she had wanted to catch a number of the birds and was not quick enough, even with her steadily growing legs.

she was out of breath. her lilac-toned coat was tufted and wind-tossed, with the slightest blush to her body after the run through summer sand. the girl moved to one of the smaller alcoves that served as a storehouse and butchering room, where she intended to strip the quail of its more intact feathers, and prep the meat.

the hallway was quiet - all she could hear was her own throbbing heart.