Whitewater Gorge Thorn bush

The sun glares down from overhead and Briar all but wilts beneath it. He had not paid much attention to his comings and goings from the Teekons. Well, it was more one long stretch after leaving the lowland desert, searching for greener pastures to winter within. Now he had returned to continue drifting aimlessly.

The flatlands were vaguely familiar. He relocated the springs, although it was far from the proper weather to enjoy a soak. Even the sulfurous odor seemed stronger beneath the heat, or perhaps he simply forgotten it. Moving away from the springs towards the sound of running water, Briar's nose twitched. Iron.

How curious. A wounded animal perhaps? His stomach growled eagerly at the thought of an easy meal. Head level with his chest, he set out into a determined trot. His own scent driving him forward.

Sooner the distant whisper of water grew into a roar. The ground opening up into an uneven chasm. Splitting the flat prairie land before him. Across the way, two-tone eyes landed upon a silver form as it scurried about, insect like, nose to the ground. Could there be animal burrows on their side?

Unaware that the stranger was the source of the blood smell, his voice lifted into a bark to hail her attention. What 're you hunting over there?