What Are You About?

After hunting with Fern, Pitch had decided to cross the land bridge that she'd spoken of to reach the lower continent. Many paws had made this journey and she could see it in the dip of the land. It wasn't difficult to follow the signs, both sight and scent and soon, Pitch was at the border to a pack that smelled similar to the grey woman. Seating herself at the edge of a well traveled pathway, the obsidian woman lifted her delicate muzzle and called out for anyone who might be near.

During her journey, night had fallen. There was a sliver of moon in the sky, though the wide swaths of stars sparkled brightly. It was enough light to navigate by and Pitch had never been afraid of the dark anyway. She practically was the dark, after all.

Sitting tall, the woman's lengthy midnight tail curled around her hip and paws. She sat still, almost like a sentinel or gargoyle guarding the pathway. As she waited, Pitch took in the scent and sounds from all around her. She could smell sweet grass and far off wood smoke. From all around, night birds, frogs and insects sang in harmony with one another. Yes, this was a good location to live within. The earth here was serene and calm, just how Pitch enjoyed it.

"Pitch"