Moonspear I thought I saw the devil

Farrah moved over and across the mountain called Moonspear as featherlight  as would a ghost traverse the craggy terrain; it was not in the fae’s interest to attract attention to herself, for she was not [had not been] in her best state of mind and preferred the solitude of her den over the interactions with others. It was so much easier — so much more preferable! — to stay inside her mind and allow it to protect itself than to invite others in and fear that they might stay. 

it was her thirst for travel which brought her to the edge of the packlands; the invisible division that separated her from the rest of the world. Farrah loved it as much as she hated it, and her opinion of packlife vacillated from day to day. Her name might have changed from Olive to Farrah, her status from devoted mate to childless mother, and her alignment from Teaghlaigh to Moonspear, but the past would never truly to fade her memory. 

But the lamb simply wanted to smell the outside world. She longed to know what sorts of things were happening outside these confines, but her fear would not let her stray. Instead, Farrah completed a perfunctory lap around the mountain but held zero intentions of guardianship. Her coal-tipped snout snuffled along the ground, searching out the scents of others and the different locations that tipped the wind. There was familiarity intertwined with one of the scents, which shocked Farrah less than those scents she did not recognize; but as the scent became stronger and stronger, realization suddenly dawned in her mind’s eye. feet faltered. the dark girl came into view. the pale one obscured herself behind a tree’s dappled leaves. the words caught up and tangled in her throat.

Farrah’s eyes of faceted jade scanned the landscape; she was the only one there to handle Chusi's sudden reappearance. But right then, there was nothing more Farrah could do.