Emberwood ﹌ Txumtsyìp

whatever is gleaned from the river shadow, skuka does not linger.
she think of returning to the camp at the base of the mountain, but she is not one to retrace her steps. it is easier to go forward if you do not look back; so she does not, and moves north until nightfall, and then further for a morning, only pausing for a quick drink.
onward, and she has the wherewithal to snap her teeth across the spine of something small and furred—a stoat, or something like it. it doesn't matter. her meal is quick and unsatisfying. as she hurries to bury the remains, movement catches her attention and she freezes.
her eyes move among the trees; her ears pivot for every sound thereafter. something races through the green.