Full Moon Patrol

It was her turn to take night patrol. She was glad for it. Her father needed the rest. She’d already set out and been on patrol for about an hour, alert and silent as she stepped into the miasmic shroud of fog that blanketed the Moor. She had to admit she adored this land. It held such a sense of mystery, and under the light of the full moon, the feeling only grew.

She picked her way through the mist, ears swiveling as she took in the sounds and the barely heard tread of her own paws as she placed each carefully. She’d be no good at hearing unusual sounds if she couldn’t hear anything but her own paws on the ground.

She smelled him before she saw or heard him. He was her youngest uncle. Laisren. She hadn’t interacted with the silver topped male very often, knowing him mostly by scent and her father’s descriptions, as well as a passing nod and maybe a nip to the ankles when she was much younger.

When she saw him, he was some ways ahead of her. Perhaps he’d taken another path to the border, instead of following the wall from the plains. She, herself, stood almost completely hidden in the wet mist, and as she started forward, still unconsciously picking and choosing her way, the miasma swirled around her like vaporous tendrils.

She stepped up to join him on the right side, the dominant side, a pale spirit swirling from the mist before she broke that momentary effect by grinning slightly at him, asking, "Mura bhfuil tú i dteagmháil leat?"

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think