The forest was warmed by the sun and more of the little critters were scurrying about. Rabbits bounded for their hide aways as Kyle walked into the forest. The wings of birds and their songs fluttering through the branches. A rather distressed squirrel swore at the man as his breakfast was once again interrupted. It was in the forest one who was used to it could see the many paths taken by the folk to other villages or the stream that fed into a small river which fed the small fields. Behind him, the chimneys of the village waved wisps of smoke in the air as people streamed out into the fields and the forest. Plying trade in this time of plenty before the harsh Northern winter returned. Even then it was argued that it was still a time of plenty. When furs would be at their best and tracks would be easy to follow. The Northerners were hardy folk and well used to their snow and ice. Around Kyle the noise of the woods was a soft melody along with the trickle of water further ahead. A rushing sound of a small rapid that was the merging of river and stream. Cassandra would know this area as down stream a good five minutes from where Kiyanna was fishing.

As for Kiyanna the fish were in plenty. The stream did not team with them like the river, but they did swim up in a decent number. Seeking their old ponds of their birthplace to mate and lay their eggs. Frogs watched her from the muck and mud. A crane took a indignant flap off from a set of reeds. Not enjoying this foolish human disturbing his own hunting grounds. A lazy turtle floated past the woman, not caring of the feet in his way. A large being he was roughly the size of a dinner platter. and was snapping at the fish at the end of the woman's pole. Pulling pieces off as she pulled it from the river. Anders might notice a herd of deer pass on the other side of the river. Keeping close to the river's edge as they watched the humans warily. Wanting a drink, but moving on. A mighty old buck among them and paying them no mind as he led his harem further up stream.

Cassandra, on a different note, was in a rather odd situation. Brown eyes watched her from the brambles, as the wolf-creature remained extremely still. Well blended in the woody vines. Even the wolf's breathing stilled as it watched the hunter. Would she shoot again? If she did there was only one option and that brought more people with the sharps sticks and the biting fires. Best course was to avoid and hide, injured and hurt was bad enough. Cassandra would have a very difficult time picking out the spirit-wolf. The greenery clouding her view and the natural woody vines not helping either. To move them would risk a pricked finger, or if the wolf attacked- a bitten hand. Though she might make out the bits of dirty white fur that was on the wolf in small tuffs. The rest of her fur was the grey, brown, red mixed with black that blended with most of the woodland. Her 'hello' went unanswered in the quiet forest, birds flickering from the bushes ever so often. Not bothered by either wolf nor woman.

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