Zaria hadn't been in this area long, just long enough to set up a small humble barn for herself and what various critters that had braved her presence enough to also call this place home. Her mourning routine consisted of leaving seed for the birds and mice, preparing a cup of fresh fruit and cream for herself and then simply enjoying what nature had to offer.
She loved the silence, the brisk chill in the early morning air that caught her breath on her lips. One would think opposite by the large fur that she wore but that wasn't the reason for the bundle of grey fluff. It was a gift from her father, the last token of him she had left, so it was more for comfort and modesty than it was warmth.
As she gently ran her fingers through the end of the striped grey pelt, her ears darted towards the sound of soft hoofsteps crunching against fallen leaves and earth not far off, curious as to who or what was now also visiting her mountain home.
Mr Cheri
