Fairspell Meadow bleak midwinter

Wind direction trailed her back to the outskirts of Akashingo. Her search suited the mouths of their kind, wisping through drying grasses and following up an abundance of scents. Many of which she'd never smelled, and could only catch puny traces of. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

BOOOORING!

BORING!

Too far! But the high of being about and traveling was at its peak. She'd return when she had something to return with. It was, however, a new scent, a wolfish scent, and her ears that made her stop nearby with an averted head. Intentionally.