Silvertip Mountain Cat's in the cradle

*lures @Chakra* :D

Although she knew it might not be wise to travel in her condition, Pied convinced herself that getting out and stretching her legs would actually be good for the healing process. Thusly, she swiped her tongue across Kisu's muzzle, said goodbye for the day, then set off from the foot of the ridge. She headed south, then west, trotting slowly through Ravensblood Forest. Although she liked the eldritch woodland quite a bit, she was happy when the trees thinned and she emerged in the cool winter sunlight on the other side.

After taking a drink from one of the forks, Pied followed the river that threaded its way into the valley nestled between the mountain ranges. The plateau tempted her—she wouldn't mind seeing Hawkeye or checking up on Peregrine—but the Iota veered west today instead, her nimble paws carrying her toward the foot of a majestic mountain peaked in a frosted white cap.

She stopped in the shadow of this wintry alp, her two-toned eyes lifting to study the mount's face, with its sundry details. She saw sharp cliff ledges not unlike the ones back home; slender footpaths winding in and out of view; and various trees leaning out into the open sky, their roots solidly grounded in the rocky soil. Near the summit, silvery snow sparkled in the sunlight.

Various scents complemented the view and her nose quivered as she lifted her muzzle into the air, only for a look of foreboding to cross her face suddenly. She lowered her head and quickly dashed away from the mountain's looming shadow. The gouges in her shoulder gave a twinge with every few steps, yet she didn't dare slow. In fact, the pain hastened her step, serving as a stark reminder of why she was running in the first place: to put as much as space as possible, as quickly as possible, between herself and the pungent scent of a territorial mountain lion.