Sleeping Dragon ai trikracha

maybe @Thuringwethil ? but open!

She left the riverside swiftly enough, the pain of her wound quickly ebbing - either through its natural progression or sheer force of will - but that did nothing to remedy the anger that flowed just as freely as young Seregryn's blood. The bite had not been serious; a chunk of her neck was missing, and her fur was painted with a patch of shining red that matched her furious eyes, but that was all. In order to keep her foray beyond the border secret, she would have to tend to it herself. It was in such a place that his was impossible, but the agitated creature was not about to be done-in by it. She sought the cover of the trees upon the hillside, and delved deeply there. The shadows held her close -- hiding her from sight as she scrounged up what scraps she could. Seregryn thought back to the lessons from the gray woman, the one she had surreptitiously followed so many days ago, and soon had a cluster of specimens at the ready; whether they were correct or not, she would soon learn. It was difficult to find the necessary herbs when one was in the dark -- not to mention her lesson had been impromptu at best. Some things she remembered from her days among Trikru, but it was difficult for Seregryn to remember anything of value now, when she was too angry and too riled by adrenaline.

As she collected one final cluster of anonymous roots -- her paws dark with mud -- she rounded up all of the items and sank to her haunches before them. Instead of beginning her preparations however, the fos goufa was too busy fuming over her failings. She had learned nothing from the guard upon the riverbank. He had been a dutiful creature, if a bit passive, and her attempt to charm him had not gone as she had planned. Flustered as she was, Seregryn thrust herself to her paws and paced in circles; catching the corner of her piled herbs as she went. When her legs were tired of this, she came to a halt beside an old tree and raised herself up -- balancing on her hind legs -- and began to claw at the bark, peeling ribbons of it away with her blunt claws. The mess collected beneath her, but she would not stop -- scoring even the soft innards of the trunk with deep grooves.