Sleepy Fox Hollow Delta Dawn, what's that flower you got on?

a ripple of tension moves through the band. from her vantage in the deadfall she watches with eyes widening as the first — a blocky thing of granite and storm — turns his impressive flank broadside. 

to her he calls to mind an inimitable boulder loosened from scree, and the heavy strike of his foreleg is equally thunderous. 

two small things — their children, she realizes — move to one of the distant creature’s flanks. 

they are a watchful and wary race, atoztli decides. but so very different than the guanacos of her homeland. 

must this be some cousin of the pronghorn? she probes visually at their anatomy and is shocked to notice their limbs end in a single hoof. 

as she leans in close, a branch above loosened by her careful movement comes clattering to the ground.

atoztli knew this would draw their attention. the hanging branches that shielded her from detection sprung back as she bolted for deeper cover, sticking to the woods as she fled.