The Sunspire [m] rawhide

not quite a wolven scent now emerged from the woodlands, the stones, the trees. muskrat slowly rolled to her belly, ears lifted to heed.

someone was coming, senses more attuned to potential than footstep. the warrior rose, padding noiselessly to the edge of the small broad stretch where she had briefly lain.

rocks rolled, clicking against one another.

muskrat kicked another into the open air, waiting to hear it strike the ground — or the watcher. "go!" she snarled, intrigue limning her expression all the same.