Bramblepoint lie, lie, lie, lie

Saffron had come a long way to get here. She ensured her survival through spending brief periods of time with other packs who accepted her into the fold, but she never stuck around for long. She had never communicated this to others, simply left in the dead of night after a successful hunt. At the very least, she contributed to the pack when she could, and when she couldn't Saffron blamed the season that offered very little. In arriving to the Teekon Wilds, she was in good health, thick with her winter furs and her hearty weight. Her spirits were high as she trudged through the snow, sniffing at the air and looking back over her shoulder. In the distance, behind her, was the Caldera which she had jogged past. She was heading toward the Ocean, which was something she had always wanted to see. And the gypsy knew it was close enough to make it there without stopping to join a pack in the meantime. 

The woman wasn't a scout, after all. She had sold herself as one many a time so that none would search for her for very long, but Saffron felt she ought to stick out the rest of the winter somewhere and survive it. But she wasn't a scout, not at all. She hadn't the athletic body for running long distances, nor the sharpest memory to recall important messages. Fortunately Saffron had other things to offer, but had no desire yet to offer these things to any until she had fulfilled the one thing she had desired, for all of her life: to see the ocean. 

In entering Bramblepoint, Saffron cast a look around her. She narrowly avoided getting caught up in thorns, and snorted at them triumphantly before she continued on her merry way.