she came from the south, where the forest reached on and blackened the landscape. she came as if called forth by the trees - a lumbering ent in pursuit of others which shared her traits. progress was slow, but there was progress still. when something blocked her path she would fight against it and prevail, coming out the other side as if there had never been an obstacle to begin with. the wolf was not swayed by the many twists and turns before her, nor the fallen oaks, the ancient elms, the rotted-out stumps that were netted by moss and fern alike. everything could be overcome - so she fought on, and came out the other side of the forest, far to the north of where she'd begun her efforts, and gasped a deep breath from the open air beyond the dark limits of the trees.

what met the behemoth's flared nostrils was something she was overjoyed to taste; there were wolves here. somewhere, either nearby or a mere day's march, maybe longer... but they were here. she wouldn't be alone any longer! poor juria. poor sweet juria, poor naive juria... there was no telling what sorts of adventure awaited her in this new place, and rather than take a moment to think about it - and potentially reconsider this life-altering decision and reverse course - she went against the vague unease that had settled through her bones, and plunged ahead. reaching strides carried her beyond the dark woodland at quite the clip, and as the spring air filled her lungs, she felt a renewed sense of hope.

her path led north, but not wholly out of the woodlands yet but close enough. each time her burly self crossed out of the shadows and each time her paws found purchase through soft grassland rather than the uneven dirt of the grove, she felt a spasm of glee shoot through her entire body; but there were always more trees, always more darkness. each gleeful moment was countered by its antithesis: the dark to balance the light, a dreadful feeling of worry to serve as catalyst to the freedom and delight. by the time she truly left the forest behind juria's easy lope had become a sluggish crawl. her raised head and bright expression had become more guarded, and then dulled - she didn't look up as she left behind the boughs of the last pine, barely noticed when the soundlessness of the open field met her ears rather than the creaking of the wood.

she had found freedom, but was numbed to it.

the light was all around her - but she saw her own cast shadow, long and dark against the moody sky; it was early evening now, and she felt a biting chill from a sudden wind. when juria did look up, she saw only greyness. the fading light of the sun. an errant star peeking through the navy clouds above - and it was like the forest hadn't ended.

had she not been so worn out, juria would have been keenly attuned to the stars above her head. she would have been vying for a place among them - or as near to them as possible - so as to reach an understanding. to speak with them, commune, drift from spot to spot of light, and remember all that her mother had taught to her. the darkness was overwhelming her at this point. the single star blossomed in to a handful, in to many, and still she kept her head down and averted; she yearned to stare upon the constellations and remember her mother, but knowing of the pain she'd feel as well... juria chose to avoid the pain, focus on the physical world around her and not the spiritual, the present rather than the past, and sank deeper into her foul mood.

it was at this point - this precipice - that a voice boomed from the darkness, startling her ears and making juria jam on the brakes. she halted instantly; and as her dark fur puffed, she spun in place and hunted for the body (she presumed) would be attached. the words themselves faded on the air; she rhuminated over them for a split-second as she spied the dark beast, almost like a knight versus a dragon or something of equal calibur, and the first thing to pop out of her mouth was:

that's a mouthful of a name - you sure that's where i am? her brow was furrowed and she looked at him the way an adult might look at a child blathering on about their favorite cartoons. kind of like, yeah bud, just stay over there with your toys. whether this stranger posed any real danger or not, she'd soon come to understand. for now though, juria was struggling to take him seriously at all. after a breath she added: sorry, is this your forest?

she should have anticipated a mouthful from the strange wolf; he seemed like the type to hide-out in his parent's basement playing DnD and living off of stale cheetohs, but maybe her perception of him was a bit lacking. maybe he was something more foul? but the neckbeard-esque feeling did not abate.

wait a sec, you're not making sense. something about the elements? she looked at him as if he were sporting gills, or had eight legs, or in the manner she might look at an old man spouting foolish stories. if this wasn't his forest then why was he even talking to her? gosh. spooky forest, check. dunno anything about an illu-sa-whatever, but i best be off. hopefully whatever was affecting this guy wasn't transmitting to her through speech. juria began to put some space between them, not because she feared for herself physically (she was formidable in her own right), but because he was just so weird.

he didn't seem to like her banter, not that she really cared. it wasn't like she was here to make friends - he'd just happened upon her. and in the spirit of keeping herself in one piece, juria decided it was better off that she leave. he didn't seem so happy with her now; the stranger tossed a threat her way, although she'd had an inkling that he was a volatile sort of beast and was already moving to depart. she didn't bother saying another word - much more content with keeping away from the spooky forest and its current resident. note to self: avoid misty havens where crazy old men live. good life lesson.