Hoshor Plains The day the skies touched the earth

The howl was no more than a leaf on the wind, tumbled to her more by happenstance than intent. Her ears flicked lazily, her fur wind-whipped as she sat upon the altar of Hoyali Circle. Her jaws and chest were drenched with black, dried blood. Only the bones of her kill sat upon the blood soaked altar. The rains had begun, and would soon wash the blood away. It mattered little to her, as she had found her answers in the rabbit's intestines and in the marrow of its bones.

When the call went up, the storm becoming fiercer as it drew nearer, Awazzi decided to heed it. They would be no safer together, as storms heeded no numbers, but there might be comfort in company. If they should die tonight, then let it be together. She did not fear it, but would be pleased to die as she had once lived, beside a Khal and his khalasar.

A fire roared as she made her slow way to the morning camp. Vaes Aenai loomed, near yet impossibly far. It was a race, she realized with an exhilarated laugh. Would the fire claim her first? Or would she find safety in the morning camp? She made her steady way on, determined to find her answer.