Barrow Fields give me the bed of bloody arrows

While her nausea had dissipated for the most part, Nyx continued to feel like shit. The coywolf had bore her litter recently and while she continued to shun the strong possibility of having conceived one of her own, that terrifying thought loomed ominously over her as the days crept by. She'd sulked her way through the sound, loitering along the beach in the hope of finding a pack-mate to mooch pity from, but there was no one to be found. A part of her missed Arrille and Chusi then, for they would've been a pleasant distraction from the ongoing storm that was her own mind.

When she swore she detected the fresh scent of Wylla, the golden Ostrega promptly made for a speedy exit. She swiftly crossed the sand toward shelter of the sequoias, between which she slipped into the shadows and - hopefully - out of her volatile Alphess' view. Nyx wandered through the forest until her chosen trail brought her to its edge, where she paused for a moment to study the vastness of the neighbouring meadows.

Snow and ice still remained there, though small sections of dirt and new Spring green had been uncovered here and there. She studies the open quietly for a time, before stepping beyond Grimnismal land as she conjured the idea of making herself useful and header deeper into neutral territory in search of prey.

The familiar sound of thundering paws captured the tawny wolfess' attention and she paused to scan the field for its source. Curious, her gaze followed the form of a dark-furred wolf as it darted across the barren landscape a short distance from her location, and she huffed her irritation through flared nostrils. Whatever potential snack might have been in the area was definitely gone now, so she gave a lash of her tail in annoyance before veering to continue her search elsewhere.