Wild Berry Meadow It was all she had

head deep in an upturned fox’s den, vixen’s ears snapped forward as vermouth’s voice broke her from her reverie. she clambered from the hole she’d dug passionately, staring at the dark and freshly disturbed soil. 

what had she been doing, again?

she listened a moment longer, scratching at a clump of dirt irritating her ear. 

with a shrug she trotted back the way she’d come moments before, slowing to a disapproving prowl as yet another women lingered within distance of him. 

vambrace, he’d said. she swiped at the mud along her cheek and fixed her uneven gaze on the woman, who up until her arrival had probably been gearing for a peaceful afternoon. she didn’t bother hiding her visual assessment; if anything, she was guilty of staring a bit too long. gracile, this women of earthenware hues; she only wished the stranger would put those slender legs to good use and move away from her companion.