Noctisardor Bypass life is about creating yourself.

Her eyes taper as she secretly studies him from the corner of her vision. Was he… flirting? She couldn’t be sure, and wouldn't trust her judgment now, reacting more with her body than her mind, which was loured by his nearness.

“I think I might like to see the West, someday,” she murmurs a little wistfully. She’d never seen a place so beautiful as the valley, and wonders what more of the world there was to see before the day got dark.

“Why did you leave? Do you have family there still?” She turns to Fig, the graze of his inky guard hairs against hers sending a forbidden ache up through her limbs. A root catches her distracted paw and she nearly stumbles. This was ridiculous. It's never going to end gracefully. She tries to return focus to the trail.

“Yeah you know, get up North and breathe the fresh air, see the sights.” That answer didn’t exactly make sense but it was less of a mouthful than ‘fleeing home to prevent unwanted pregnancy, only now seeing you makes me want to be.’ She hoped he wouldn’t dispute it.

Eventually thready underbrush gives way to a gently sloping veld, the trees bathing their dark pelts in dappled sun that shifted with a cooling breeze. This must be the place. It was lovely, maybe she didn’t have to lie about camping out being the sole purpose leading her North.

“Let’s rest here?” she’ll suggest tipping her nose up to look into the willows overhead.