Bramblepoint Southstar.

She only remembered how much noise leaves made when she came upon a trio of turkey vultures picking over a carcass in a small clearing. The birds startled, two of them taking wing while the boldest of the small flock merely hopped aside and watched her with beady eyes. Towhee returned its stare for a beat before her gaze dropped to the carrion.

Towhee immediately recognized the remains of a deer, though there wasn’t much meat left on the exposed skeleton. Nonetheless, she lifted her lip and growled loudly at the loitering vulture as she stepped closer. It finally lifted into the air, roosting across from its fellows in the sparse treetops overhead.

The pickings were so slim, they really weren’t worth the effort. After a brief assessment, Towhee loped away from the site, leaving the scraps to nature’s garbage disposals. She hadn’t gotten very far—just out of the birds’ view, really—when a breathless she-wolf appeared out of the corner of her eye, familiar and demanding.

When was the last time they’d crossed paths? Towhee felt like it had been at least one lifetime. Maybe that was an exaggeration, though she was pretty sure it had been last spring. And it really felt like she’d lived through a lot of life since then. Surely Ceridwen had done the same.

I’m roaming again, although more specifically, I’m trying to hunt at the moment, she answered the younger woman’s question. Towhee paused, thinking back on one of the last things Dwin had said to her. So, how did your trip to the edge of the world go?