Flikhamarr picked her meandering way up, down, and along the craggy cliffs that bordered the ocean, intently focusing on her feet and the path just ahead. The sea churned up spray that reached even to her height, and was whipped around by the constant wind to soak everything in the rocky coast with salty damp. She barely noticed it. This was her natural state of life, the chill of the breeze and the constantly wet fur, treading her way along slick dark rocks that threatened to slip her up and send her tumbling towards broken bones below. She was at home here.
She was further out than usual today on her scouting, beyond the pride's normal territory. She'd wanted to study the lay of the terrain in this area and get in some climbing practice on unfamiliar paths. And besides, some of the Reavers were getting annoyed lately that she was trying to patrol the borders like the warrior she wasn't. So she'd just get out of their hair for awhile.
