Rosewater Oasis A white stag pulls up a stool and bellows hymns to enchantments.

A small figure as black as a starless night, a sharp coyote in appearance and round in belly, carried her signature hare. It had taken her far too long to catch the furry creature, too many days not hunting in a familiar land.

Hurt still hung on her face, clung like an annoying tick on an eyebrow. Tribe grow. Tribekin who still were able hunted, as was her task. 

Kusuma stopped for a moment, her throat burning from lack of water. Surely, she could stop for a drink...?

And then she froze, fur bushed out.

Wolf.