Blackfoot Forest black skies only know how to bleed

After all the extra work put on her body going through the marsh, Ocra’s legs felt a little sore. It hadn’t been where she wanted to put her energy while leading a current life alone. She’d been able to clean herself up in the next stream she’d found, picking through the mud in her fur and between her toes. Coming out on the other side, a weight lifted from her body, occasionally gives her the phantom feeling of being heavier than she was. The attempt to fish hadn’t been worth it, her skills could have easily been set on something else, and she found herself still hungry.

With the moon high above them, rays beaming down through the thick overhead of trees, Ocra was able to navigate herself through. She didn’t know what she was looking for but the occasional, distance sound of a fox was enough to keep her on guard. All she wanted was somewhere to sleep for the night, safe and tucked away from the outside world, she not knowing her surroundings left her a little unsure where she could safely rest her head.

Her nose touched the ground, finding a den with marks recently dug but no scent left behind that gave it claim. Ears fell back against her head and she kept moving, far too concerned that whomever left those marks might eventually come back, no matter how long they’d been gone. Ocra began her search again, one of her paws hitting the overgrown root of a tree that caused a new sear of main as well as toppling her forward so that her face hit the dirt.