Duck Lake dancing shores

The lake has become a regular haunt. Mainly, it is to satiate Fúyáo's fondness of waterfowl, but lately she comes to simply relax. 

A pair of moorhens scatter from a half-hearted pounce as the princess splashes her way along the shallow melt-water. In a way, this place reminds her of home.

Pausing to shake her pelt of mud and dew, she is readying herself to move on when movement on the other side of the lake catches her eye. A bird? Too large. A deer, then? Wolf? Cat? She releases a curious puff of air.

It does not occur to her that these things smelled wildly different. Fúyáo sets herself up for an ambush of sorts, hoping the deer-wolf-cat-thing would pass nearby.