Redtail Rise Around me where I laid.

The wanderer paused, pricking her ears to listen closer to a curious clattering. It was out of place in the forest, not quite the rat-tat-tat of a woodpecker's bill striking a trunk, but not quite the sound of tumbling stone, either. It was unlike anything she had heard before.

Interest piqued, Wanderer abandoned her hunt and began to hone in on the sound. Her steps were brisk and she swept her nose back and forth across her path, detecting the scent of a wolf, but not someone who was here before her departure. His scent was mixed with the Rise. Not an intruder, at least.

She spotted Riley's toy before she spotted Riley himself; the turtle shell skidded over a pebble, answering her question of what could be producing such an unusual noise. Wanderer, at 7 months old, was not immune to the draw of a game; without so much as a sidelong glance at the wolf who owned it, she dove for the turtle with a mirthful growl, intent on stealing it for herself.