Hoshor Plains Still don't know your name, miss honey

Weaving away from Hearthwood's camp, Kyrell glided through the crowd. Moving with the eb and flow of bodies he kept his head on a swivel. Emerald eyes wide with awe and a growing excitement. He had a hard time believing that they would return to the Willows empty-handed with this number of hunters.

But it wasn't just hunters. There were young bodies darting between legs and tripping adults and a waft of herbs here and there. Did some packs bring their entire number to this event?

While his head was lifted high, watching some folk greet each other with open arms and excitement, someone had collided into his chest. Coughing a moment he raised a paw to his mouth and looked down. He might have confused her for a youth based on her height, were it not for her more mature proportions.

Hey, now! No harm done.

His head turned briefly, gauging the crowd's movements. Let's find a spot where you won't be trampled, yeah?