Iktome Plains As the crow flies

Blinking against the morning light, Chacal slipped from the loving embrace of her family and slid out into the shrubby moors without a sound. An icy fog left a chill in the air that hovered just above the horizon which was still pink from the dawn. She would have heard an expression about such a thing- to take warning should the horizon be such a shade in the morning, but she wasn't concerned for the weather. She was concerned for her brother. 

With her breath held, she took her first wavering steps beyond the pack's marked borders and into the plains, pausing for a moment as though expecting to be called back immediately to her homeland by one of her guardians. She felt naked to be wandering alone, her shoulder surprisingly cold from where it was usually warmed by the flank of one of her mothers or siblings. And while Chacal amused herself quite well in solitude when within sight of the den, she seldom strayed far from someone else's side when exploring, like a child clinging to their mother's apron in the kitchen. 

But no call came, at least, not immediately. None came to sweep her back into the safety of the moors as she had stolen away like a thief on silent tiptoes. She had very little sense of direction, and a fledgeling's experience of tracking and scouting, so she was well out of her comfort zone being out in the plains on her own. She sniffed at the earth expecting it to be generous and forthcoming about its secrets, but had no idea what exactly she was looking for. So she began to wander, slinking along with her belly close to the ground as she quietly began to zig-zag her way through the plains.