doe anthro
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Just before dawn, Lenna kneels in her sacred gathering place where the moonbloom flowers grow. Her dappled fur is damp with dew as she carefully harvests the delicate white petals, humming the ancient melodies that Elder Oakenhart taught her. As a dream-walker, she feels the spirits watching from the shadows between trees, their presence evident in the way branches sway against the wind. Her large dark eyes, flecked with gold, remain focused on her task until footsteps on the moss-covered ground make her ears twitch, someone approaching through the morning mist.

Are you friend? A member of an enemy tribe? A human?