Ravensblood Forest Get off my back

Pied felt lucky, having only sustained a few scratches from her encounter with the mountain lion several days back. They were deep but she would certainly survive. All the same, she walked rather slowly and stiffly now, a combination of sore muscles and knitting wounds. She assumed she would regain her normal pace in another week or so, when the torn flesh mended more fully.

She knew she should stick close to the ridge, to give her body a rest and to avoid anymore unwanted run-ins with the local wildlife, yet Pied grew restless and eventually traipsed away from her home and into the nearby forest. She just wanted to stretch her legs a little bit, even if she shuffled slower than a snail. There was no rush anyhow; she wasn't trying to hunt or otherwise accomplish anything that necessitated haste.

The dappled yearling paused suddenly when a strange sound met her gray ears. She tilted her head, focusing on the noise. It sounded like... sobbing. Slowly, she shuffled toward it. As it grew louder, a scent came to her and Pied froze again, trying to place it. It was so familiar! After a few beats, it dawned on her that it belonged to one of her many relatives from back in the Seahawk Valley. Peregrine, she identified wonderingly. She wasn't close to him, yet they'd talked a few times while living in Flightless Falcons.

When she found him, Pied realized it was him making that strange noise. "Peregrine...?" she said uncertainly, limping closer to his quaking form. It was definitely him. "Hey, are you okay? What are you doing here?" she questioned softly. She was tempted to reach out her nose to touch him, yet she stopped short. If memory served, Peregrine took after her grandmother, March Owl, and she didn't want to risk setting off his quick temper.