Treasure island

Treasure was something that particularly intrigued Siv. She had never really found herself to be the type of person that actively sought it, however. She was interested in the same way a young pup would be interested in the idea of magic and adventure. It was something that was unfamiliar to the young coywolf. In a sense, she had the pleasure of finding unique treasures of her own. Oftentimes they were jewels that were not physical; locations or the companionship of others. It all came down to perception. The Savoy girl was an active listener, so she had found stories in her travels, and names that dripped from the tongues of others in peculiar languages that she had never heard of. Life itself was a treasure. For some, it was difficult to see such a thing. Darting her gaze upwards to peer inquisitively at the grey-furred female, Siv found her answer to be an expected one. After all, Osprey seemed quite fluent in the art of hunting for buried secrets. Still, when the question was posed as to how long Siv had been treasure-hunting, it was something seemed to cast a strange sadness in the girl. “Oh, gee, I guess this is my real first time. Maybe you could teach me some tricks for later on… if I’m any good at it, that is,” she answered with a sheepish expression, curling her lips upwards in a lopsided smile. The girl was persistent, that was for sure, but she found that she was not always as proficient as she would have liked to be in other people’s trades. Still, it made for an interesting life. Focusing back on her digging, the Savoy girl narrowed her brows in a manner that would have suggested that she was incredibly driven by this task. In truth, her heart was beating faster for the idea of what was buried beneath the log than anything else in the world.