Whitefish River keep your head up

Looking around reveals several potential spots when the deer may have gone. There are three forests to the north, west, and south. She knows that deer don't like to travel much - leaves them open to attack. Maybe this male was the odd one out, breaking off from the herd in hopes of, you know, not being gobbled up. A watery tongue traces her fangs, scheming. They couldn't have all bolted, could they? She turns around, peering into the shadowy undergrowth upon the tableland with a hunter's glow.

That was when she heard a jaunty voice call out to her, recognition painting her features. They may be new acquaintances, but Saarthal's vitality is infectious. The silver-clad girl hastens to her, wheezing and beaming. Varinril returns the smile, pleased.

"Morning!" She waits for the girl to catch her breath, radiating calm. "Find any good trees to flirt with yet?" Who knows? Perhaps Varinril can practice on said tree, make it blossom or something (if Saarthal hasn't yet).