The crepuscular light shifted unevenly across the growing clouds, which themselves would soon blanket the entire sky, and through the passage of these moments she could only toil. The night was not her realm. She was not strong here in the dark, where her body stood out with the faintest glimmer of starlight; where the darkness was overwhelming to the point of obfuscating any trail. Of course Tomoe could track just as well as any wolf - it was hardly an asset, more of a requirement for survival after all - but the growing obscurity would always serve to slow her down. It was infuriating, but she knew that the darker it got the more likely she would have to stop. So while there was still light (these dying embers that she chased, a desperate moth in the dark) Tomoe crept along the ridge until she felt it even out, and began to scour the landscape for somewhere safe to rest for the night.

What she came upon was a shock to her senses. More bizarre than the darkness was the smell, for the air took on a malodious affect; as if the land had been coated in sulfur. She did not go far before catching a glimpse of the sunset around an irregular shape, and she picked up speed for clarity - trying to get closer to the last bits of sunlight, hoping for answers - and she suddenly found herself running out from what remained of a forest, in to a haphazardly composed clearing. Nothing looked the way it should have; the foliage had withered, the trees had thinned and darkened. This was a place of the night, and no place for a daywalker - but she was here now, and too tired to move on. With a nervous sigh she rounded a bend upon the slope, and began to search. The sun would return in the morning, and she would feel better.