Having been apart of Nomads Pass for nearly three months, Taima now no longer needed Datura at her side. He was no longer some sort of "social crutch," and she was starting to become a lady by her own means. Her brief talk with Mapplethorpe had her thinking in all sorts of new ways. If she had not followed her instincts to search for her prince in the fog, if she had not patched up her relationship with Datura when they had a small bout before Heiress Loch, if Mapplethorpe had ultimately not come looking for Datura... she would not have been here at all. It was because of the grizzled Advisor that she had all that she had now and she dutifully did as he asked day in and day out.
Today her border patrol brought her on the very edges of Mapplethorpe and Naira's markers and, acting upon the Advisor's suggestion to relax for a few hours in the middle of her beat, Taima decided on a whim that the small body of water she had only ever seen glimpses of through the dense treetops was the place she would take a break. Her nose told her that Mapplethorpe often visited the area, and it gave her all the more reason to investigate, even if it was merely a few minutes' walk from the territory lines. Holding her head up high and keeping her tail level, she strode away from the incline that led up to the Pass and into the northern part of the Ghastly Woods. Carefully she picked her way through the verdant foliage, rewarded with the sight of a small pool once she had peered through the curtain that surrounded the small, hidden oasis. She daintily lowered one forepaw into the cool water before dipping the other in beside it to lower her head and quench her thirst.
Licking her lips and making sure the water droplets did not stay in the fur on her muzzle and chin, she gazed about the area in awe. Even if the sun was not shining, the area was quiet and welcoming in every aspect. Isolated, cozy, and secluded... Only when she was confident she was alone, gracefully lowered herself into a bed of moss-covered rocks and sand, looking over the water's surface with an air that suggested she might have been the overseer of the spring. Though she had long since outgrown her games of make-believe, she lightly tilted her head to her right, pretending to just rest her head on her imaginary friend, her pretend pack's Keeper, now a graying gentleman whose still svelte build and kind eyes rendered him into the father-figure she so very much missed.