Such reveries were nearly always interrupted in her youth; there would hardly ever be time to think before one of her siblings would leap out and interrupt them. At the very least, here, things seemed... different. It was nearly always quiet, and the presence of another would always be fleeting, whether that be a good thing or not.

She was content to munch away at her berries. That was, until a sound drifted from further down the range—a simple hello. Citlali nearly jumped out of her skin. There were no footsteps. Yet, a voice called forth.

She lapped up whatever was left of the berries and stood, ears swiveling and twisting about in an attempt to find the source of the call. ...Hello? the woman returned. Who are you? Small, nervous sweeps of her tail brushed against Citlali's hocks.

Not a day drew by that she did not wish she could see the world. But suddenly, it didn't feel like a mere wish. At times like this, it was far more drastic, more desperate. A huff left her lips as she took a few steps forward.