Dragoncrest Cliffs yon sèl flè

hope u don't mind me tossing another one of my idiots at u LOL

A storm had begun to snarl across the cliffs. A whip of white light that breaks the blue-gray stain of the sky, something that was perhaps a bit reckless to be wandering about in.
And yet, here she was.
The darkling weaves through the trees — another dangerous game, but she felt a desire to busy herself. Lonesome and boring was her den, a brain that itched for stimulation.
She hadn't been aware of Mireille's silhouette, at first, merely snuffling at a patch of moss that climbed up a nearby pine's root. It could be useful, she thought. But Maleah's eyes were fond of wandering, and they find the cinnamon oceanwolf just beyond another swath of foliage. She squints, trying to recall if this could be someone Chacal had mentioned — until she notices the swollen pink-red teats that sit at her belly. This had to be Mireille; who else was nursing?
She says nothing, at first. Merely leans a jagged shoulder upon the trunk of the tree, and resumes whatever it was she had been doing. What was she doing? Flighty today was she.