Big Salmon Lake runaway

also counting towards a scout trade!!
aw!

The sun had risen high, brushing gold across the vast glass of the lake. Ripples glimmered where trout danced beneath the surface, and somewhere near the tree line, a heron lifted off in slow, graceful flight.
Aneira moved with no destination. Snowmelt rushed in from the mountains, feeding the veins of the land; and for once, she allowed herself to follow, carried by instinct alone. Her paws were quiet, pressing into the damp earth along the lakeside trail. The scent of pine mingled with water, and elk tracks patterned the soft soil.
The world was alive here, untamed, full of stories she did not need to understand just yet. The frostmaiden lowered her head to drink, letting the cold bite of the lake numb her tongue. No plans, no burdens, just the rhythm of water and wind and the subtle peace of not needing to be anywhere at all. Just here; just now. Wandering.