Redtail Rise ooh girl, wouldn't that feel nice?

he rarely had a direction these days.

all he knew was that something had lured him back here. in an animalistic way he gave in to his desire to follow.

now that he was here, he felt the opposite—somehow repulsed, repelled from rise. 

as easily as he had come, he would be gone again.

seemingly thousands of times he’d summited these slopes. again, he picks a path and makes his way up the incline.

and then it hits him suddenly, strongly, the scent of another—familiar, yes—revealing that he is not alone out here.

somber curiosity; he tracks her.

there—the distant thud of a stone, he is close.

mulherin sees her, perched above the cliffside.

he watches the girl idly from below, his throat is too dry to rumble a greeting.