Xyla found herself out in the forest, hunting near the Macaw border, careful not to cross so that there would be no trouble. She wove through the green brush effortlessly.
She could hear the bustling center of the other tribe from where she was. She sighed, clearly annoyed, and kept on wards, following a panther that she had been stalking for a while now. Her eyes darted around her, making sure she was in solitude before daring to breathe softly again. She realized they were friends with the other tribe, but she was still wary. As always. Gosh, she hated herself sometimes.