It occurred to her on occasion that leaving Taviora was an option. Yet not once in over a year of her life had she considered actually doing it. Feyre had taken every warning as a pup to heart and it had left her a bit, well, handicapped in some areas of life. Her fear had become a great and all consuming thing - for starters, her fear of the open sky. By now she was far too large for any big bird of prey to snatch up unlike her puphood. Still, it was ingrained in her, and she preferred to skulk through the shadowed interior of Taviora with ease. Whenever she found herself near an open glen, she skirted around it, heart thumping hard in her wide chest and ears flattening at some perceived rush of terror. Only once had her mother tried to cajole her into the open and when pushed, Feyre had begun to pant and collapsed in a fit of terror that had Shiloh back peddling and comforting her child. Whatever Feyre's faults, though, she was a diligent and well behaved child.

Just as she feared the open sky, she had also begun to fear large bodies of water. The river was a quaint place to hang out so long as she was safely on it's shore. Even fishing in the shallows worried her lest some imagined river monster swim up from the depths to snatch her and drag her under. With an imagination so vivid, it was a wonder that she got much done, but still, she managed well enough. Only recently had she begun to imagine seeing things moving in the shadows of the night and had made an effort to be well ensconced in the den with her parents before nightfall. She HAD heard stories about the giant cougars and bears that roamed in the nights in the past years. What if they were still about?

Today she had been wandering in the brambles towards the northern borders of Taviora, where the forest grew thickest and it was almost impossible to see where one was going. She had come across bushes filled with blackberries, ripe and ready for her to pick off, and even a fallen apple from a rare and random apple tree. It had sated her belly, even if meat would be better, and for the better part of two hours she had investigated the area, digging up a few bones and finding some shining and weird silver feathers that she tucked into her fur rather haphazardly. By the time she headed back southward, her multi-toned fur was in disarray and sported lots of burrs, as well as muddy paws. She hadn't even heard a wolf nearby when she heard her father speak, and with a yelp she collapsed to her belly, panting heavily at the sudden surge of adrenaline. "Father?" She squeaked, breathless, panting still as she shakily rose up and peeked out from some bushes to spy him with the coon in his mouth. A deep inhale, hold, then exhale is given as she pushes through the bushes, body trembling slightly from her scare but a tenative smile on her face. "You scared me, da! Oh look! You caught a fat coon!" There is praise in her voice, always happy to be around her family.