Silverlight Terrace Inland

She had finally moved inland, and she already missed the coast. Her pelt still smelled of salt, and it was still curled from the sea. Happy to at least carry it with her, Nyamh skirted along an area that smelled distinctly of pack wolves, and found herself in rolling green hills. It was dark, but the moon shone bright and silver down upon her and the land; the green grass gave way to silver, and her pelt faded, looking paler in the moonlight. Up and down the hills she travelled, heading southeast. She would follow the mountain for now, and see where that took her.

aditya was running.

it had been a while since he engaged in a good lope, and though he felt the strain and the fatigue much sooner than he would have as a young man, he still enjoyed the feeling of the wind whistling past his ears, the ground falling away beneath him.

only the sight of her drew him to a relative stop, and then her scent—her wonderfully salt-tinged scent.

the sea. . .

adi stood upon a rise, gaze trained upon her, waiting for her to notice him, too. to make the first move. and even in this dazzling display of moonlit fur, he thought of that opposite,

tytonidae

he'd seek her out. eventually.

The wind shifted, and Nyamh caught the scent of another. Her tail lifted as she spotted him, and she gave a low woof of greeting. He did not carry the scent of the nearby pack, so she assumed he was a loner, like her. She did not approach him, but merely stood, orange gaze trained on him. "What're ye starin' for?" she grunted, frowning.