Dahozhoni Meadow amarillo by morning

I am on mobile today but I couldn’t resist bringing her in.

Brooke arrived at daybreak. Alone like this, she was crepuscular; getting most of her distance in the morning and evening let her sleep through the hottest parts of the day.

Today was going to be a scorcher, alright. Heat lines already smudged the horizon’s edge and the wide orange yolk of the sun.

The flatlands did little to hide her, silhouette visible from every direction, but she was used to this; such is life in the flatlands she came from, and she knew that as long as the wind held her favor she’d be able to spot anyone from any direction.

With her, she carried a small brown-and-white pelt, once practically filled to the brim with herbs and near empty as she entered the wilds. She was surprised at all the meadow had to offer. She set down her bag next to a flat rock and began to work, pulling up flowers, roots, and stems to dry.