Welcome to Gaia! ::

The cool, moist air here was a refreshing change from the harsh borderland. The temperature itself is not alien to her. The nights in the exposed badland are cold, yes, but they're the kind of cold that sinks deep into bones and chills muscles into an almost painful slumber. She forgets how gentle the embrace of the swamp really is, and she quietly chides herself for not returning more often.

Sandwalker reaches up as high as her neck will let her to reach branches laden with tiny orange fruits, not yet kissed by winter frost. They're snapped off, carefully, leaving her bundles that can be easily carried back home. Home, where these common, tart fruits will be a savored and precious delicacy. There's far more here than she could ever take; the bounty here is an alien thing after the scarcity of the border territories. The work is meditative, and she almost doesn't notice the presence of another until it is very close.

When the sound of hooves reaches her inattentive ears, she lowers herself down and looks back to see where they are coming from. Not alarmed or disturbed, just calm and curious. Dark eyes sit over a gentle expression, contrasting with a compact body that is no stranger to difficult conditions. A kimeti. A buck? Yes. She doesn't run into too many strangers.