Such was the moment that found her now, sitting amongst the ferny undergrowth. The greens and browns of the bracken and the evergreens were a dark backdrop for the pale figure poised beneath a token deciduous amongst the Edge's other trees. Her head was tilted back, sharp gold eyes observing the different hues of the autumn leaves, the different patterns of blackened spots that marred the otherwise brilliant display.
Intent upon her studies, the young gryphon was oblivious to the distant comings-and-goings of her herdmates. Unlikely to notice at first should one approach to see what the cold-weather predator was up to today. Though it was more than likely she would encounter a stranger, for she had been a loner within the greater whole for much too long. Few were the times that she sought out Rishima, and fewer more the times when anyone sought her company. So she had become accustomed to being solitary without ever quite being alone. It is hard to be alone when the woods resounded with the laughter of youngsters and the voices of their families.