Duck Lake zero hour, nine am

it is not long before she comes across another; brown-toned pelt, half-hidden by the reeds. for a moment, her heart is in her chest, and she is motionless. but the moment passes, and this is not aditya, and so she finds herself but in reality. with a stiff shake of her pelt, she moves instead to close the distance between them, offering the male a soft chuff in greeting. in the midst of the famine, strangers are unpredictable; she will not waste her time with someone who will serve no benefit to her own agenda.