Blackfeather Woods Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

She pushed them onward, onward until the border was clospe and then they were over it. North. The mountains would be hard to cross,  so very hard, yet it was there they stood the least chance of being followed, letting their scents fade quickly among the rock. And it was there that she pushed them toward, as the border faded fast behind them, and the palest tinge of light spilled over the horizon. Her gut twisted,  she hid it well if only for the benefit of the children.

She wanted to makr it as far from the borders as possibly before the sun rose, perhaps to the base of the mountains today. There, they would hide and rest, to continue their journey tomorrow.