Mudminnow River if i didn't know better

for some quiet moments there is just the three of them. no movement. no sound. the strangers by all appearances hold no affinity for the other, which helped ease some of the distrust brewing in the pit of her.

it is the second, larger of the two men that draws in her attention, if only because she'd come to realized he stood amongst a stream.

her ears swiveled toward him, her steps calculated as she moved in the direction of the flowing waterway, sure-footed in giving the brute a large berth.

snowy toes slipped within the singing waters as she positioned herself to keep an eye on both of the men — her attention twisting from one to the other. she lowered herself to drink from the crimson washed brook, but like a gazelle drinking from crocodile infested waters, she remained poised to flee.