Golden Glade a wolf with no history is like a tree with no roots

Someone come meet her!

The water made it easier. It was something about the rhythm it followed and the way that it flowed which comforted the woman. As she sat alone, allowing the amplified whispers of the stream flow through her ears, she thought it to be a fine time to try remembering. Normally, when she was further into the woods, thinking about what happened before she woke up gave her such a pounding headache that she had decided to relinquish whatever past she was sure she had to lost memory.