The Heartwood my heart is like a stallion.

There was more room to breathe here than in Neverwinter Forest, and more sunlight to walk by even at dusk. The spacious placement of the trees did not provide the most ample cover, but Andalusia would take the shoulder room over the claustrophobic embrace of her overgrown kingdom any day.

Her ears twitched at every sound, taking in the local fauna with a curious mind. The call of a solitary bird sounded from the tree tops, and a rustle of leaves marked its departure from its forest dwelling. But it was a different sound that caught her rapt, scuffling yips that made a scowl pass over the woman's stoic face. The air carried the faint scent of blood, and Andalusia made for the source on swift feet.

She drew near in time to catch sight of a coyote delved deep in its prey, its guttural savagery breaking the peace of the forest air. Andalusia's ears canted back and when another beast moved in from the side, she prepared to leave, wanting nothing to do with a coyote, and even less to do a pack of them. But she snapped her gaze on the pair again at the sudden sound of pain, and Andalusia's silver eyes glimmered in the sun's waning rays at the fight that enfolded before her and at the pair who threw themselves at each other with such reckless abandon.

It was foolish, was she was about to do. Lethal, even. Yet without a beat of hesitation, and with full knowledge of the danger she put herself in, the silken woman leapt into the clearing, attempting to snap at the coyote's rear while it lunged at its wolfish opponent of darkness.