Golden Glade illumination

jameson is unsure of her. especially so, now that she has noticed him. she is clearly not a coyote like the ones he'd chased off and killed — which had gotten him tangled in this mess in the first place. his battle buddy had always came for him before but dread hangs heavy in jameson's chest as the days bled into nights that bled further into a week. two. and his battle-buddy hadn't came to chide him, grab his collar with his weird looking paws and load him back up into the bucket seat of his noisy old chevy truck.

but he meets her gaze, visibly scenting the air in return.

he shrugs out of the foliage — alert and sure to leave plenty of distance between them; but his body language is neutral. cautious, but not aggressive.