Golden Threads

Sunlight spilled into the valley, warm and welcomed. Naudir was outside the den, farther than she'd travelled in awhile though she still kept the densite in view. The heat from the sun was stirring the air and it was particularly windy. Her ears flattened against her skull as she continued her exploration, her thoughts drifting lightly to the dreams she'd had the night before. Dreams of strange markings cutting deep into rock and dripping with blood, dreams of fire and words she didn't understand.

Shaking the visions from her mind she scooted under a small spruce tree, sniffing at its needles and taking in the scent of the terra around her.

"Speech"