Golden Moose

often caiaphas was consumed by melancholy. it made her pine and it made her anxious: and when anxious, the coywolf traveled. today found her a great deal away from ankyra sound -- despite her alphaship there, to stay constant within their borders would have been torment for the waif. she elected instead to broaden her knowledge of the outside world, and all the tenants that came with it.

she had been nosing along somewhere in the region she had known as 'rising sun valley' -- a name befitting such descriptive beauty, for little was more breath-taking than the rapid wash of yellow that flared over the landscape during dawn's first ascension. she had spent the latter half of the day digging for truffles, as the moist rise in temperature and climate was fantastic for the opportunistic fungus. she paused when she scented (and subsequently saw) a most oddly colored fox. squinting, the feral beast rose from her muddied pit she had dug and shook herself off. for now, she would stare at the little thing until it became cognizant of its unfortunate company.