The femme was so lost in her petal picking that the shout that rose from a far someone had almost made her fall off her tree branch. It could’ve been the end of her successful tree climb, all in the matter of seconds. The noise came and went, echoing on other far away objects as it left. Axelle sat up and threw her stem into the wind, which floated away, too, in the wind.
She looked out into the horizon, not seeing anyone at first. Then she saw a figure somewhat close and far at the same time. He looked somewhat familiar. The scent, which told her he was male, and the colors of his pelt looked like something she had encountered before. She hadn’t moved from her tree branch, but belted equally loud, ”Who goes there?!” She found that she spoke strangely sometimes; maybe it was her different moods that changed her speech. She didn’t use ‘who goes there’ often, but it seemed appropriate for right now. Especially since the brute had disrupted her from deep thinking along with her appropriate petal-picking.
She leaned as far as she could out of the tree, without falling off her branch. She saw the figure, but couldn’t tell if he was looking her way or if he was oblivious to her beckoning. She would try again, ”Hello?” This time it wasn’t so loud as the first, since she wasn’t as surprised because she saw the one who caused it.
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