Qeya River Imitosis

Her skin felt as though it wanted to tear from her body, to expose sinew and bone to the elements, and she thought that might feel better than this; these fraying nerves, and storming emotions and odd stirrings that she could make no logical sense of. She was supposed to stay within the borders of Drageda until the Commander and her party returned— to watch over the claim as her new role demanded. It was what she had desperately wanted, another step closer to leading a pack of her own and bearing children, but try as she might to let the comfort of logic rule her... Magpie presently couldn't find it within herself to care. It was perhaps the Corvidae in her blood, that made her crave new scenery so fiercely, as if a sunset in somewhere new would be a balm on her wounds.

She had come back to the Wilds to seek out her remaining family— to be near them, even— but she never intended to live amongst them. Magpie desired to carve out her own path, and just as she had made the first mark, her niece had encroached upon it; it was petty and illogical, but the Corvidae resented it. And something about Wildfire's hushed words to the Commander haunted her— "I missed you." She didn't know what it meant, or perhaps didn't want to. It was all made worse by Thuringwethil's hot-headed decisions and bull-headed determination to do the exact opposite of what Magpie patiently advised. Not for the first time, she wondered if she truly belonged within the borders of Drageda. It was never intended to be her final home, anyway; and she had told the Commander as much in their first meeting.

As white forepaws crossed over the threshold of the claim, out into the Wilds, a relief spread over the woman. Freedom washed away the cares that were so strongly tied to the tumultuous wolves of Sleeping Dragon, and the peace she craved settled in her chest and pushed the wild emotions aside. Her skin no longer felt like it was about to leap from her body. With no real thought, Magpie treaded south towards the river that had caused so much tension in the region; perhaps to truly test her freedom, or perhaps to see if it contained some sort of magick that caused all the wolves that drank from it to go crazy.

She walked along its banks for a time, until she heard the splashes of a wolf pacing in its depths— occasionally bobbing beneath its surface, far too violently to be fishing, for they'd all be scared away. So far, her theory could not be proven wrong. Brows raised over chartreuse eyes, she hailed the male from a safe distance when his head was visible above the river's surface, "Looking for something?"

Your mind, maybe? she thought silently, a wry smirk touching the edges of her muzzle.