Flycatcher Downs the veldt

around her was spring, and only spring. the grass was tall and fluffed with seeds ready to fly at the smallest gasp of the wind, or brush of a body through their multitudes. she had to wait for summer if she wished to be hidden within the grass, truthfully—her toasted coat, blonde and buff and whatever else, did not fit agains the backdrop of silver-green, between the snow that persisted in the lower patches and the fresh growths of this transitional season.
from her vantage point skukä could see little else beyond the undulating fields, the open and pale sky, and various smudges upon the horizon which could've been anything. she could tell that mountains rose in to the north and skukä was not sure if that was where the wind would push her; further west looked the same, but farther afield.
unable to make up her mind, she sits in place and carefully begins to pick through her coat and was soon focused on her self image, seemingly unaware of whatever else happened within the downs.