It was well past noon, and though Willow had usually stopped at least once by the time the sun reached its peak, she had yet to do so today. She didn't seem too bothered, though perhaps she was only temporarily distracted. A few more steps and her stomach was starting to rumble. The doe made an exasperated little sound under her breath. Right now she didn't feel much like stopping. It was a nice day and the walk had been pleasant, even if she had been up since early morning and her legs were almost begging her to take a load off. Alright, she decided. Just a while more and she would rest.
It wasn't unusual to see her walking slowly, she rather enjoyed taking in all the sights and sounds unhindered. What was there to hurry for? However, as she neared the point where rest would be all but a necessity, she had slowed considerably. Now she was looking around, hoping to find somewhere to lay that was both comfortable and could supply her with something tastier than leaves to eat. She would settle for one or the other, she supposed, but it never hurt to try.
There was a certain interest in following things that made such an effort to get away. He had spent nearly the entire morning trailing languidly after a frog or a bird -- at one point he might have been following his shadow -- and had quite lost sight of his latest guide. The one on his heels, a sulking mass of tan fur, was seemingly content to follow for the time being. It was probably a rotten idea but he was obliged to be able to wander to and fro with such freedom. The other day the cat had been so insistent that he lead, yowling in such distaste whenever a hoof fell out of line. In hindsight, the cat was probably wise to lead them to a pond teeming with clean water because he had forgotten to drink and eat so absorbed in watching a caterpillar spin a cocoon.