Porcupine Ridge And someday

The mountains rang the drums of running feet. Poor footing left for hurting pads, but as the months grew on, their squishy exterior had started to harden. The body adapted from soft lavender fields to needled mountains. 

She whisked forward and shot overhead of dropped pines, but for a moment as her legs left the ground, felt that ring of something misaligned as the scent of Muskrat grew strangely strong. But what?