The morning had been a quaint one as ivory limbs followed one of three coursing creeks that intercepted the Sacred Grove, opting to continue along the center path which divided the grove in two after departing from Bramble falls; the main source for the flowing water. A single pine green iris constantly darted about, sometimes watching the unique heart shaped leaves in their fiery coloration float along the water's surface. Other times shifting towards the visible treeline as more magpies than she would have liked to notice hobbled about the branches, or made an awful racket attempting to communicate with one another. What those pesky birds could possibly have to gossip about, Hexamora was at a lost.
Ivory limbs lackadaisically followed deeper into the northern portion of Relic Lore by the guidance of Heartleaf Creek, the plush making of her tail swaying contently at her hocks until a sudden and unexpected roar of sorts breached the air. Now, who could have made that? Paws were swift at halting abruptly in the wake of the noise, skull angling in such a way to allow the only functioning optic left a chance to survey the direction the sound had originated from. A perplexed expression wrinkled furrowed brows. Nothing out of the ordinary greeted the wraith pelted woman in the immediate moments following the strange roar, a simple shrug of her shoulders brushing it off as a simple tug of her leg by her own imagination. How wayward it could truly become after enough hours were spent in solitude.
"It's probably nothing. Move along." She reassured herself only to be proven wrong shortly after her coral tongue released such hope, a single paw barely capable of lifting to resume following the water source. Faintly, but still audible came the cursing and the echoing of gnashing teeth causing pearly tinted guard hairs to bristle habitually. No wolf aside from herself was in sight, yet Hexamora could not deny her ears had heard what they had this time. This was not the handy work of her tricky imagination. Someone was surely nearby and the small arctic wolf was hellbent now on finding out who they were.
Embodiment upholding a hunters crouch one limb after the other unfroze from their current position to begin stalking toward the treeline, ebony nose twitching to currently serve as a better tool in this investigation than her limited line of sight. No time at all had to pass before Hexamora weaseled her way into the confines of a local shrub bush, single eye wincing on occasion when a rouge branch managed to jab her in just the right spot upon her sides. A small opening in the vegetation allowed the wraith like woman an unobstructed view of whom had made the noise while remaining covert.
Just ahead a swarthy coated wolf; a male guessing by the sheer size alone, stalked in what appeared to be an angry circle of sorts. Theoretical steam billowing from ears and flared nostrils as more obscenities were shouted onto the air. Who, or what these foul words were directed at she didn't know until a narrowed lid caught the man glancing towards the canopy above. Instinctively her own gaze followed suit, catching a glimpse of the hoard of magpies squawking from their protective perches. Some of which must not have liked the language this brute was using as more than a few dive bombed to grip tufts of fur then just as swiftly escape the empty snapping of jaws. Not a single ruffled feather to be seen upon the two toned birds. The same couldn't be said about the dark pelted man as his hair stuck about in every direction imaginable.
What a sight to behold. In the light of one's misfortune, another found entertainment. A welcome relief to Hexamora after her ungodly embarrassing encounter with Nathaniel back at Bramble Falls. She would lose her self control, though, if one of the magpies bestowed a shitty gift upon the infuriated wolf. The Beauvau woman was definitely going to stick around and watch what possibly unfolded next, especially when one had front row seats as prime as the one she now nestled within.