Blacktail Deer Plateau Washing what you know out to sea

dauntless’ stomach grumbles as he peers as the last stretch of his patrol wondering if it would hurt to take a break and find some small and unsuspecting woodland creature to snack on or if he should tough it out and keep going. if he finished his patrol, he reasoned, then he would have more time to hunt something bigger and more worthwhile than a squirrel. with that constitution in the forefront of his mind dauntless keeps going on his patrol, pausing in his steps as he catches an unfamiliar scent on the frigid wind that writhes its way through the plateau’s forest. it causes the wispier tendrils of his chocolate pelage to bristle at his nape and he makes a beeline down the border to where the scent is the strongest. hazel gaze — favoring brown today — focuses upon her dark gray mottled pelage and he offers a chuff to announce his presence, satisfied that there is plenty of distance between their borders and her. he finds it a bit strange that she apparently is content to linger ( he did not recall hearing any sort of call ) and his tail lifts over his back in a display of assertion. “these are morningside’s borders, stranger.” dauntless informs her simply. "what brings you here?" he inquires bluntly, having begun to discover that he has little patience for those that presume to beat around the bush.