09-17-2021, 04:07 PM
It was one of those days, as rare as they were, that Olive wished she was someplace other than she was. Only the day before, she had climbed these outcrops and made quite a day of it — but she had awoken that morning to gray skies, and a grayer disposition. It had been a few days since she had last eaten, and it seemed her plans to hunt this day were dashed. If it rained, the scent trails would be obscured, and the prey animals holed up in their burrows. She, too, wished she was holed up in her den, or the warmth of The Hireath.
Olive didn't know if she was more jealous of her prey for their ability to escape the weather amongst the bleakest landscape, or hangry because she wanted to eat them.
Almost immediately, the sylph turned her nose to the sky to scry which way was north, and began heading back towards Little Haven. It was at least several day's travel, and she would be trucking through most of it through this ephemeral dreariness, but at least she could rest her bones and dry her pelt amongst friends.
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