Blackfeather Woods Must Be The Season Of The Witch

Noise behind her, voice seeking, muttering. Ash Paw whirled with a small snarl fixed on her petite maw, but she calmed as the words and the body language pierced the shield of her mind and defensive posture. She let her limbs slide into a more easy stance, and her lips fell back around her maw, as blue eyes searched the other's face. 

Purple eyes stared at her, from a large face. Russet fur a perfect mix into the autumn spun forest. I'm sorry. she spoke breathlessly. I hadn't realized anyone was there. To lost in my foraging.

Ash Paw looked at the small bundle she had dropped, most of it hadn't fallen apart. She could fix it.

If you'd like. I'll share what I have and what we find. MMM..I'm Ash Paw of Basilica.