Dawnlark Plains caught in your riptide

for @Erys

afternoon wind blew low and dry across the hills. anoré moved silently through the shallow drifts, her body tucked to the earth. the land was quiet—watchful. but quiet never meant empty.
a young deer, separated—perhaps foolish, perhaps simply unlucky.
she'd downed a stag the other day, fed upon it, but this one, lean and sound, she would bring back to winsook.