Last time she had been on the banks of this creek it had been deep winter. The snow had been deep and the prey nonexistent, every breath of frigid air had hurt. It was only the familiar curve of the flowing water and distinctly-water-loving trees that reassured her it was the same place. It was still hard to believe. Now everything was flush with green. The trees were far from barren, harboring songbirds and chipmunks. They were much different than the raucous red squirrels she was used to and her gold gaze drifted to them benignly. She only chased the red squirrels because they pestered her so.
Glancing up she caught sight of a glossy form soaring in the sky and stopped to watch the raven. He dipped, croaked once, and wheeled about. Still by the creek Iopah watched his flight. Ravens had keep her from starvation once long ago. Emaciated and inexperienced she would steal their meals. With an excellent vantage point they saw carcass's from far off. She glanced back at the creek, clearly considering something. Animals would flock to the water and leaving it seemed counter-intuitive to hunting. But that raven was going somewhere. Certainly she could search for prey in the direction the raven had taken? If she lost track of the bird she could just veer back to the left to meet back up with the creek and continue. She leapt up the bank of the creek excitedly, sending a spattering of mud against the tree trunks, and broke into a steady trot after the raven.
Last time she had come to the creek under the pretense of hunting, it had ended up being more of joyous exploration. There must be something in the water here.