Her mottled grey fur was tipped with sparkling dew when Pia Hayes woke from her deep slumber. Bland brown eyes fluttered open slowly, and she stretched her forelegs out on the horse blanket. The warmth of the filly’s body was not there, but a quick glance showed that the strawberry roan had only wandered off far enough for a morning graze. She smiled and yawned, her tongue curling, before stumbling up onto all fours and shaking her coat out.
They had traveled far in their search for her father, finally crossing the isthmus into the region of Nova Scotia where she’d heard he would be. They’d journeyed through the mountains even, skirting a dominant pack territory, seeking a more welcoming place to rest. Pia was tired, but she would never say so aloud for fear of Poppy somehow understanding and getting discouraged. She really just wanted to find Father and be done with it, but despite the rich spring vegetation and prey of the area, she knew she’d be at a loss without better directions and perhaps a pack to shelter with.
After padding around on the blanket to inspect her things, the young woman began to shift shape. She liked to sleep and hunt in lupus form, but it would be difficult to lead Poppy over the mountains like that. Instead, she rose in optime then began to dress, pulling on her cargo pants—when had they gotten so weighed down with pebbles?—and reaching behind her back to tie the black and white threads of her dark corset. She put a paw on her stomach, made sure she could breathe while the corset supported her and gave her shape, and chirped for the roan to come away from her grazing.
“Let’s see what’s this way, Poppy!” Pia quipped, fussing for a while over the filly’s hackamore and saddle. She gripped the reins in her hand and led her from their grassy hill into rockier territory and beyond. She wanted to walk the earth herself, be equal with her horse for a while, and best yet be able to stoop and grab a pretty feather here and there. She smiled softly and put a lovely little blue one in Poppy’s pale chestnut mane.
It was not very long before a unique sight caught Pia’s eye. She blinked and broke into a grin, looping the reins around a low branch and venturing toward the pile of lovely rocks and fresh flowers. Her paw reached out to grab one when she caught the scent of a pack there. “Knew it was too good to be true,” she whispered, shoving her hands in her pockets and frowning delicately. It was lovely, though; whichever pack this was, they knew how to decorate their borders. Maybe she could call someone and ask where they got such pretty stones…
Or maybe she could ask something else altogether. Her ears lowered, and one hand came up to play anxiously with her braid. Did she dare try to join a pack so soon? Wasn’t that better than nearly starving herself in unfamiliar territory? Maybe this one would be safe, and the mountains were indeed so pretty—so maybe she could give it a shot…
Pia let up a musical call, sounding almost like a songbird, and backed up away from the borders until she leaned against Poppy’s white-dusted red back.
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Hello thar! <333
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