Lone Star Mountain just a stoic statue, fit for a nobody

There must have been death in the woman's gaze to strike a memory of something bigger.

A sharp gasp fled her lips with a harsh whisper. "Sick woman!" White fur coated, and brilliant red ran down the back of the willowy figure. Hex's words had fed her mind. Sick people! Sick people! Was it only the woman?

An owl cooed. A careful glance to its calls, and Nutuyikruk's focused shocked back to the red boy and white woman. Quiet!

Ezra.

They were hunting. She needed to get out of here! And made two careful steps forward along the high path, but with time greatly taken from the stalking lynx. Eagle eyes, intense, fearful, curious-- observant. Learning how they caught birds from trees, and how they curved the branches down to knock the nests to the ground. Clever.