Caiaphas watched. The wind brought her the scent of the yearling before she saw him, but she remained unbothered. He carried the pack-scent of the mountain she'd offered a goat to; embarrassed herself in front of, but at least it didn't seem to be the bull of a woman. Even so most others didn't bother to look up in the first place, and even if they did, she couldn't imagine many scaling the low-hanging branches to meet her kissing the sky.

Perhaps it was the wind itself, pushing against the weighted branch and creaking. Perhaps she just didn't blend in well enough. Perhaps he was just less useless than she expected someone his age to be.

She was impressed, nonetheless, that the boy was observant.

For a moment, she didn't even move, though her ears twitched at his soft curse of incredulity. She felt like a goddess, the plush fur of her mane tugging in the wind, perched high above and peeking down upon the world of mortals.
She felt almost like her old self again, confusing the locals.

Her wine-pink gaze settled down on his stubby crow-dark frame, tail swishing.

Some would say I am sheltered, she tossed back sweetly, voice tinkling like a bell, High above other predators that might mean me harm lurking in the woods. - she didn't call him out directly, eyes remaining on the youngster, but she could smell the citrusy tang of someone else nearby, caught a flash of sepia fur from her peripheries.

A single long, eerie blink.

Some would argue I do not need shelter. The weather doesn't call for it, the land is no longer frozen. Why not enjoy the night?

Her lips parted in a glowing cheshire grin, forepaws crossing casually.