Dragoncrest Cliffs Blackpine

mireille hated to be dirty.
she had spent the better part of one hour meticulously cleaning mud from her paws, only to stumble into another pubble. with a loud huff, the girl gave up on it and wandered along the trail of njord's scent.
she found him speaking toward something on the ground, and her brow quirked quizzically. the long-limbed child pressed along his side, a little gasp sparking as she finally made sense of the situation.
who was it? she chose to defer to the emerald, though could not help but sniff closely toward the stranger all the same.