thank the gandy dancers for a path well worn

As the pale waif headed back towards the shore, she was surprised to find fresh tracks. Not necessarily wanting to explain why she was so close to the Glacier, Caiaphas swung wide of them -- careful to tuck herself under the shadowed embrace of the shady copse.

But scarce a half hour passed before she came across the tracks again, and this time, the owner of them. She halted in place and regarded the heavily scarred male coldly, her sharp muzzle held aloft as she scented him. Being directly in front of him, there was no chance he would miss her -- and resigning to her fate she afforded a curt, venturous greeting. "Who are you?"