Phantom Hollow capture the erymanthian boar

gently tosses my gal in here because why not! to hell with consequences!

She had gone much, much farther from home than she'd intended. But that was, perhaps, how it had to be. The shackles of heat had let their grip loosen as it nears the end of its reign of terror, but it was not yet gone. 
And stupidly, she was growing less careful about where she went. 
The passing days of travel eventually gave way to rolling fields and waterways, and alone, she'd gone Westward. In a day or two, she would return home - and probably avoid looking Akavir in the eyes - but for now, she would enjoy what little solitude she had remaining. Quietly, she trails along the holler, smoothing windswept fur with a forepaw. How serene and peaceful this was. 

Until a scent fills her nostrils, and that warm, desirous feeling floods her bloodstream yet again. And then it is promptly followed by the ice cold rush of panic.
A man.