In her growing unrest, she wandered away from the Coast.  She missed the certainty of soil beneath her paws and the cover of trees.  Though the island offered both of these to some degree, she longed for a life on the mainland again.  She was grateful for the leaders of her pack, of course, but she was uncomfortable living so close to the vast ocean.  Natshana found comfort in the predictable boundaries of a forest, where the sea only fostered her anxieties.

So, she left hoping to see farther inland.  She found herself in a place that felt like a necropolis.  It was eerie and still, even deathly quiet.  The feelings it gave her weren't unwelcome so much as they were interesting.  In fact, she was quite intrigued by the moss that hung here and there, and the apothecary intended to study it when she came upon a wolf who very much looked like an apparition herself.

"Have you come to haunt me, spirit?" she called out in the common language, her tongue no less clumsy as she invoked the words.  Even so, there was humor to be found in her tone, bolstered by the way her eyebrows rose a degree.  Natshana thought she was funny.

Natshana walked into the fog willingly (should that decision be a precursor to her death, so be it).  She noted the accent that the other wolf held and the word that she said that sounded strange to her ears.  Though she spoke with an accent herself, Natshana's was much different than the ghostly stranger's.  They talked in similar and different tongues, and that privately piqued her interest.

"I do not find guilt to be very useful," she replied with a half-smile. As her companion continued, she couldn't help but chuckle - a sound that was generally merry while also genuinely amused. "Will you tell my mentor that you believe I have a clear mind?  They may disagree, but it would serve me well." Her pale eyes glittered more like starlight than the moon they embodied. 

"I hope I am not intruding, then," Natshana persisted. "Perhaps you would like some company for a while."